First Song
by Charlie Lyons
Summary: Dorian, an elite Nymph warrior, meets an enchanting Siren named Selene. Though she gives her body, she is unwilling to risk her heart to be with him. He must overcome her fear of Nymphs to gain her love, but she fights to prevent it. Adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

Dorian rolled away from the woman beneath him with a contented sigh and a smile. He loved this feeling. The feeling he got after a good tumble with a soft, warm woman. And what a woman this one was.

A heavenly face, with fair eyes that could arouse him with the intensity of a well-placed caress, and lips that did everything he could ask for, before he even asked for them. Long, pale silky hair. Breasts he could fill his hands with, or conversely his mouth. Impossibly long legs that climbed to her best feature.

He loved the female form. It was as though it'd been made to just to please him. Any woman would do – he had no preference for appearance. Just as he would do for any woman. He loved exploring their long bodies. Looking into their faces of pure seduction – whether their faces were plain or ravishing. Legs that could wrap around his waist and hold on through the most turbulent of rides. And what a ride he would give them.

He was a nymph. A powerful warrior; the kind of foe no man wanted. The kind of lover every woman desired. For centuries, he'd pleasured every woman he'd gotten his hands on. As was the way with nymphs, he sometimes had to turn women away, so as not to make an enemy of her current lover. Sometimes, though, he would take whatever woman offered herself to him, be she mated or no. It really depended on how he felt on any particular day.

The life of a nymph warrior was simple: train all day, visit the outer city at night, and take whichever female seemed most appealing. They weren't difficult to find, he just needed to walk a ways and wait to be approached. That was how he'd met this little morsel by his side.

They'd been in bed for three days already. His fellow warriors might be wondering where he'd been, but he couldn't make himself care. He might have been missing training, but he was still engaged in some very vigorous activities. Rough, gentle, soft, hard. She'd taken every combination – everything he had to give – and demanded more.

Pure paradise.

She turned onto her side to stare at him with a contented smile. "Dorian," she sighed. "You're magnificent. Why can't I get enough of you?"

He chuckled. How many times had he heard those exact words, from her or someone else over the years? How blissful it was to be a nymph. "Ah, Laurel. I cannot answer your question. But if you find yourself in need of more of me, just tell me, and I'll happy oblige you."

"Hmm," she murmured, reaching for him. "I might be in need of you right now."

_Hmm_, he echoed in thought, as he felt his body ready for her again, too. "Whatever you wish, sweet."

xXx

Selene backed away, eyes wide. She might have made a sound, but her breath was caught in her throat. A breath shuddered from her, and was ignored by the people in front of her.

Of course they would ignore her, they were busy paying ample attention to one another.

She tripped over her feet, and nearly fell in the hall. Catching herself on a nearby table, she stood on shaky legs and turned, throwing the door open in front of her, and stumbling outside into the bright sunshine.

She didn't know what to do. Her eyes were overflowing with tears, which she couldn't help but let fall. She stumbled to a tree and leaned her head against it.

She was going to be sick.

Oh, gods. What could she do? She glanced back at the house, realized that the proximity was too much – did she just hear a moan? – and ran. She didn't stop running until she'd reached her brother's house.

She banged on the door, until it swung open. Kendrick looked shocked to find her standing at his door, doubled over as if in pain and sobbing.

His dark eyes – eyes identical to hers – looked past her, as if to assess if she was being pursued. Then his gaze ran over her body quickly, looking for injury. His mouth thinned in worry and fear.

Kendrick was her older brother. He'd practically raised her after their parents' deaths. He'd been the one to teach and protect her, until she'd been old enough to leave his home. Even then, he was never far.

"Selene?" he said, in shock. "What happened? Are you unwell?"

She just collapsed into his arms, sobbing like a newborn child. He held her, murmuring soothing sounds in her ear, and rubbing circles on her back.

He helped her inside, and sat her down, waiting for her to calm.

"What happened, Selene? I've never seen you like this."

She finally looked up. His face was so concerned that she instantly felt bad for not explaining herself sooner. He probably thought someone had died. They had so many friends in common that something could have happened to any of them, and he might not have found out about it before her. She should not have allowed him to worry so.

But how could she have explained when she couldn't even speak?

"I-I went to Aidan's house," she gasped.

"Alright," Kendrick said patiently. "And then what?"

"I had food, and," she paused to gulp some air. Kendrick put and a hand on her back, and rubbed a soothing circle. "I'd wanted to…surprise him with supper. But I walked in and found him with a…a woman." She broke down again.

"What?" he said, his eyes narrowing. He was protective of her, and he wouldn't like this insult to her. Especially when he'd never liked Aidan in the first place, but simply tolerated the man his sister loved.

"They were in bed," she sobbed, dropping her head into her upraised hands. "He never touched _me_ like that."

In fact, he hadn't touched her _at all_. He told her he loved her and smiled cheerily in her presence, but he never even tried to make love to her. Never even acted like he wanted to. All she ever got were chaste kisses on the cheek, most of which led her to believe that he might not be interested in females at all.

_Well, there goes that theory_, she thought bitterly. He'd been very interested in that woman, whoever she was. He'd been very deep _inside_ her as well. _Of course he'd have no inhibitions with her, but be nothing but the annoyingly perfect gentleman with me._

But there was no of course about it. He'd never given her any indication that he was interested in other women, just as he gave no indication that he was interested in her.

"He never deserved you," Kendrick started, bringing her out of her thoughts. "You're too vibrant for him."

"I don't feel vibrant," she grumbled, wiping away what seemed to be the last of the tears. "I feel stupid."

"Who feels stupid?" a female voice asked.

Selene looked up, and her gaze collided with Anise, her brother's mate. The woman took one look at her, and rushed over. "What happened?"

Selene repeated the story – albeit more calmly than the first time.

"He's the stupid one, if he could let you go." Anise smiled down at her. "What you need is something to take your mind off all of this." Standing, she walked to a nearby table and returned with parchment and a writing stone. Offering her a smile, she wordlessly passed them to Selene.

Selene knew what her sister wanted her to do. Song writing was how sirens dealt with overwhelming emotion. Something about thinking of lyrics and melody was enough to dissolve the pain away, even if those lyrics and melody revolved around whatever caused the bad feeling in the first place.

Picking up the stone, Selene closed her eyes and readied herself to pour all her emotions onto the parchment on her lap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

"You never saw me standing there, right in front of your eyes." Selene started the song slow, keeping the tune uncomplicated and her voice steady. Slowly, she let it build and let her emotion slowly glide into her voice. "You never believed for a moment that I'd tell you goodbye. But now I'm humbled and alone, without any place to call my own, for in your heart is where I'd built my home. You always trusted I'd go on in your arms, and I'd believed that you would do me no harm. And now I'm lost and insecure, more hurt than ever before, for I was sure you'd love me forevermore. How did you forget me? How was I forsaken by the love that we'd had? How could you just leave me here? The answer isn't clear, because wherever you'd go I would always be near." By this time, Selene felt completely unleashed. Her voice was raw, and she was taking deep racking breaths as her eyes burned with the tears she was trying to hold back.

"Who could ever take your place? Who could all my pain erase? I want to know, what am I supposed to do, when all I ever had was you, and you've moved on to someone new? I can't live with this pain. Did you ever feel the same? Or were you always living in a game? She couldn't love you more than I do. She'd never feel this lost without you. I hope you understand, I'll never find a better man, someone who loves me the way I think you can."

People clapped at the end of her song, some with tears in their eyes. It wasn't uncommon for a siren's song to elicit deep emotion in the hearers. In fact, it wasn't at all odd to have people wander in off the streets, forgetting what they were doing or where they were going while they were entranced by the sound.

She was accompanied by a flutist, but all sirens joked it was a useless effort to have musical accompaniment to a siren's song. The music was forgotten as soon as the singer began. There was even an old lore which said that the right song sung by the right siren would be capable of causing a person to give up everything, and even forget themselves in order to follow the singer.

Selene, like most sirens, wished her voice could elicit such a powerful response, but everyone knew such a thing was impossible. It was pushing one's luck to even be able to get money from an audience, and most sirens had to take regular jobs in the Outer City, and just be content to idly sing while they worked their crafts.

All that Selene desired was to be able to sing herself out of danger if she ever needed to. She'd used to desire being able to cause a man to fall irreparably in love with her, but those days were gone. She hadn't wanted just any man anyway. She'd wanted Aidan.

She'd sung around him constantly, hoping that one day he'd sweep her into his arms and kiss her so passionately…

But her songs had never worked on him. If anything, his made _her_ fall in love. He had a beautiful low voice that shook her to her soul, and entranced her.

"That was lovely," a male voice said at the far end of the room. Not loud, not forceful, almost as subtle as a breeze in the room, which was still quiet while people tried to recover from her performance.

People were already standing to leave, and her eyes had to search to find the speaker. Who had it been? That voice was…

Had she thought Aidan's voice pleasurable? This voice didn't just touch her soul. This voice penetrated it and filled up every part of it to the tiniest crevice. With just three words spoken from across the room. Three words which may have been spoken to someone else or possibly to no one at all.

Gods, if three little words could so affect her, then did she want to hear him say more? _Yes_, her mind answered immediately. Hearing it again might kill her, but she would gladly die to do so.

She stepped down off the dais, and searched the people flooding the doorway, but saw nobody paying particular attention to her. She sighed. The allure of the siren wore off only moments after the singing stopped. More's the pity. Perhaps if she could entrance the way others could, the speaker would come to her.

Everyone was leaving. The show was over.

Just as she was about to give up hope, she saw a person fighting to get through the crowd, trying to get in while the others were trying to get out.

Could it be…?

No, it was Aidan. Smiling cheerfully, as he came toward her with open arms. A lump lodged in her throat, followed immediately by a rush of anger and humiliation.

She didn't want to see him, she didn't want to talk to him.

She stepped off the dais and disappeared into the crowd. Maybe Aidan wouldn't see her. It wouldn't matter if he didn't though, he could stop by her home at anytime he wished. Perhaps she could stay the night at Kendrick's. At least, if Aidan visited her there, her brother would run him off. Then she'd have some time to herself to figure this out.

_What's to figure out?_ She asked herself. _He was with someone behind your back. And he clearly didn't come here to tearfully confess. _

Yes, he looked joyful. Just as always.

Her heart skipped a beat. What if this wasn't the first time he'd done this. What if he had as many women as a nymph warrior, following him through the streets? It wasn't uncommon to see people offer themselves to a siren after hearing them sing, or even after hearing them speak. He might have many women. He might never want for a woman. Gods knew he never wanted her.

Tears burned her eyes again. No, she would not cry. Not here in front of all these people. Though they all seemed to have forgotten her just that quickly.

Some said a siren's voice had no power to entrance people for long periods of time until they'd reached a certain age. Selene was still too young. She was by no means a baby – at least not in her mind, but in the eyes of other Atlanteans, she might as well have still been in diapers. Compared to their hundreds of years of life, she was just a babe.

She _felt_ like a mere babe right now. Due to this overwhelming desire to cry.

She made it outside and walked quickly toward her brother's home, hoping that he and Anise would make it there not long after she did.

Surprisingly, several people caught up to her to tell her how much she'd enjoyed her performance. It was humbling. A perfect night marred only by the inspiration for her song itself. She tried to thank the people with a smile, but she could only muster a sad imitation.

She walked on, out of the city and toward the residential areas. Finally reaching her brother's home, she sat by the door and waited.

She drew her hair over her shoulder, and started running her fingers through the heavy mass and humming to herself.

Damn Aidan. How could he do this to her? She thought he loved her. No, he never touched her in any sexual way, and never kissed her with any amount of passion – despite the fact that he sang of such things all the time. Perhaps the other women were the ones who inspired his songs of desire and ardor, when she'd always thought it was plans of what they would have.

Thinking about it now, she realized how silly that whole explanation sounded. She'd thought his songs were about how they _would_ be together? How many times had others probably assumed he had a lover – or multiple lovers – that she didn't know about? Had she been the only one who hadn't seen it? Were his lovers sirens, like her, who'd been at all of his performances and known he was singing of them? Had they known about her, or had he deceived them, too?

"I'm such a fool," she muttered to herself. She leaned her head back against the door. What must she do to fix this?

Cleanse him from her thoughts. Find a way to free herself from these hated feelings. She loved him. So she just had to stop. She had to remove all things that reminded her of him. Everything he ever gave her, everything he ever said, or act he'd performed.

Perhaps if she found a new performance space. "Many sirens perform on the streets. It's perfectly acceptable." She could get all new songs, and destroy those that she'd written about him. That was nearly all of them, she realized with a start.

She sighed again, drawing her fingers through her hair. Her eyes widened. Her hair. She looked down at the strands caught in her fingers. Aidan loved her hair. He complimented her on it all the time. He'd run his fingers though it almost worshipfully, staring at it while he called her beautiful.

Perhaps… But what if she regretted it later? No. This wasn't the time to second guess herself. Now was the time for action. Time to change everything.

Yes. She could cut it – _would_ cut it. This wasn't the time for fear. It was time for action.

xXx

Dorian had returned to the palace to the jeering he knew he'd receive. He endured it with a smile. What did it matter that the others taunted him? He'd just spent three days in the bed of a female with talents unlike any he'd seen in years.

He was in such good spirits that he engaged anyone in need of an opponent. He and Broderick combated bare-handed, and then Shivawn wanted someone to battle in swordplay.

Be it a hatchet, spear, or daggers, Dorian took on anyone in a fight who asked. He even sparred with some of the lesser soldiers, the non-elite, which was not his custom.

"I suppose there's no need to ask where you have been these three days, Dorian?" He heard over his shoulder. "Your condition speaks for itself."

He turned to find Valerian striding toward him. He'd clearly just entered the arena, judging by his pristine appearance. His dark blond hair was tied away from his face, and his turquoise eyes swirled in amusement. He smiled in the sated way he did when he'd just left his woman. Like most of the men in the room, he wore black leather pants and no shirt. Unlike most of the other men in the room, his tanned skin was clean, free of sand, sweat, or blood.

"My king," Dorian started. "My apologies for not alerting you to my whereabouts, but I was a bit distracted."

Those listening nearby chuckled, and even Valerian's lips curled up after a moment. "Just don't let it happen again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"I expect to see you here for the rest of this day and the next," the king continued, his smile fading. "Hopefully your eagerness to assist your fellow warriors will not diminish with lack of exposure to the female form."

"No, great king." Dorian didn't believe it would. His escapades with over the past three nights were enough to keep him strong for a few days, though his mood might plummet now that it was clear that his king did not want him to pursue any females these two days.

Valerian nodded once and turned to go speak to someone else.

Dorian turned when he heard somebody behind him chuckle. He looked over to see Shivawn shaking his head. The beads in the man's fair hair clanked together, providing an almost comical contrast as he wiped blood off his sword with a smile.

"Disappearing for three days," Shivawn began, "for a woman who is not even your mate. How foolish can you be?"

"What difference does it make?" Broderick wanted to know. "Mate or no, the man must have a woman."

Broderick, who remained unmated like Dorian, seemed to understand. He also received the pestering of the mated warriors for not seeking his permanent lover, so of course he would jump to Dorian's defense.

"Is it worth the punishment, though?" Shivawn answered with a smirk. "If I had to stay away from Alyssa for that long, I'd be ready to hack a man to pieces, friend or foe."

Dorian shrugged. "The woman isn't my mate. The days will pass, and I will go to the Outer City and find another." He smiled. "If I end up hacking any of you to pieces, it is because I am a superior warrior."

That earned him a few more chuckles and several challenges, all of which he readily accepted. If he were to be without a woman this night, he would need to find another way to coax himself into sleep. Exhaustion would have to do.

It was late when he collapsed into his bunk. Far away, he heard a woman's ecstatic cry of pleasure. Instantly, he was envious. And hard.

Perhaps finding a permanent lover would be beneficial to him. But it was rare to have a single woman keep his attention for a long period. And he wasn't ready yet to find his mate. He liked his freedom, liked being able to pleasure any woman who offered herself.

Of course, being mated might not be so horrible. He just could not imagine wanting only one woman for the rest of his days. Forsaking all others. Not when Atlantis had so many lovely females from which he could take his pleasure. So many women who wanted to take pleasure from him.

Those around him, though, seemed to love their mates more than life itself. The looks he saw passing between them spoke of emotion beyond his comprehension. They didn't mind forsaking all others, even seemed to prefer it. They would defend each other if it meant death. Gladly, and without a second thought.

There was something enviable there.

He closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. Not when his body was clamoring for release. Another day wouldn't kill him, but it would not be comfortable.

He drifted to sleep and dreamt of all the women he'd pleasured in his life. Women who had nothing in common except an infatuation – fleeting though it may be – with him. So many women, it was impossible to keep count. He'd needed them all. Needed their bodies to maintain his health. And he'd loved them all, in a way. They were where he gained his strength, after all. But, beyond that, they were merely faces in a very large crowd.

Then he dreamed of a different woman. A woman he'd never met. An irresistible female that made his heart hammer with the possibilities. A woman he could pleasure day and night and never tire of. He dreamt of all the ways he would take her, and every scream and sigh she'd utter at his hands. He dreamed of a female so perfect as to erase all others from his mind.

He made his way to breakfast the next morning, and sat at the long table beside his brothers-by-race. His thoughts must've shown on his face, for the first words spoken to him were: "Dorian, you don't look as merry as you did yesterday. Something wrong?"

"A long, lonely night," someone answered on his behalf, laughing.

Dorian had woken covered in sweat and harder than the stone of this palace. A long, lonely night was an understatement. A night alone wouldn't have been so bad if not for the dreams he'd been plagued by. However, he couldn't tell that to the others.

"This day will pass," he said, forcing a smile. "And I'll go into the Outer City, find a woman, and pleasure her like she's never been pleasured before."

And that was exactly what he intended to do. Perhaps it would be the woman from the last three days – Laurel – or someone else. It mattered not. He'd have no problem finding a bedmate.

_A mate_, he thought almost automatically. Damn Shivawn for putting the thought in his head. That was the reason for the dreams which had caused so much anguish the night before, and, thereby, his bad mood this morning. Now he couldn't get the idea out of his mind.

He looked down the table at Shivawn, who must have travelled from the home he shared with his mate early this morning. "Care to give swordplay another go?" he offered the man.

Shivawn raised one eyebrow at Dorian's acerbic tone, but nodded.

"You'd best watch it," Terryn advised with a smile. "Shivawn's woman is lethal. If you hurt him, she might come for you."

Shivawn smiled at the compliment to his mate. "She didn't make it to the top of the vampire king's army for nothing. But she wouldn't come after a man for any injury to me." His smile widened. "She'd be too busy seeing to getting me mended to concern herself with the likes of you."

_If I knew the conversation would take this turn_, Dorian thought sourly._ I would never have said anything._ "Well, I can get you nicely butchered, then. Can't I?"

"You won't. But you're welcome to try," Shivawn answered with a bloodthirsty smile.

Ah, something to look forward to.

Dorian reined in his anger until he and Shivawn took to the ring, and he scarcely accomplished it. Only then did he allow a savage – almost evil – smile to break out over his face.

He didn't want to examine his reasons for such a smile.

Shivawn wasn't smiling. His expression was serious, focused.

"You don't want to back down?" Dorian asked, intentionally snarling.

"Never," Shivawn replied without hesitation, voice as clear as the eyes searching for weakness in his opponent.

Dorian lunged. Shivawn blocked, motions precise. Dorian struck again, foolishly imparting too much force. Shivawn stepped fluidly to the right, which promptly caused Dorian to collide into the sand at their feet, narrowly escaping the bite of his own blade.

Dorian cursed as he stood. Under normal circumstances, he would not have fallen or even stumbled. He was clearly exerting too much energy.

Shivawn turned and was at once upon him, standing over him with a sword poised. Dorian rolled to his feet.

Shivawn's serious demeanor cracked, and a smile peaked through. "You've been only one night without a woman. You should not be so easily defeated."

The taunt stung, especially since Dorian had just thought the same thing about himself. "I am not yet defeated."

"You will be if you keep fighting thus." He struck, slicing into Dorian's arm. "You are letting your emotions get the better of you."

"When did this become an instruction?"

Shivawn ignored that. "You must put aside all that troubles you. If you want to fight effectively."

Shivawn was two-hundred years Dorian's junior, and he thought to advise him? "I was in this army when the only piece of the female anatomy you were interested in was your mother's tit."

Some of those watching chuckled.

"Then it's a wonder you've made it this long without meeting your end."

That comment infuriated Dorian. He was a warrior. An elite warrior, and this impudent pup shouldn't have been able to handle him so easily.

He calmed himself down – not in the way that Shivawn suggested, but in a different way, dammit – and tried to focus. Though last night's frustration clamored to be taken out on someone, he put it aside, and focused only on the fight. It was difficult – not too difficult, of course – but he did it.

How would he last another day?

Shivawn was the one to lunge this time, and Dorian blocked, while simultaneously pushing the other warrior away. Shivawn kept his footing, but surprise gleamed in his eyes. Such a move was clearly unexpected.

Dorian tightened his grip on his sword and lashed out. Shivawn dodged the attack, but Dorian's next attack came too swiftly. His blade bit into Shivawn's side.

Shivawn winced, but then seemed to forget the injury altogether. He lunged, and Dorian couldn't get out of range of the weapon. The sword slashed his arm, and would have gone deeper, if Dorian hadn't knocked Shivawn's blade aside with his own.

They continued on, until midday meal was announced. Dorian was exhausted by that time, but he would not have admitted defeat to Shivawn. He liked the man well enough, but Dorian's pride would not allow him to concede. Shivawn would be healed by tonight; he was more invigorated due to his Alyssa. Dorian would not admit defeat just because Shivawn was mated and happened to have more energy right now. Dorian wanted victory. But he would settle for a draw.

By the time they adjourned, Dorian's anger had all but disappeared. Battle did that to a man.

_As does a tumble with an eager female._ Godsdamn it. He needed a woman.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

_Relax,_ Selene told herself as she walked down the street, feeling like an idiot. Surely everyone wasn't actually staring at her. It was her imagination, right?

She sighed. She felt like a fool. Why had she done this? What did it serve?

She'd given Anise a pair of scissors and told her to cut all her hair off. Anise had looked at the scissors, frowned, then looked back at Selene, asking if that was what she really wanted.

"Of course," Selene had replied confidently. This was what was necessary to escape the spell Aiden had over her.

Anise had moved the scissors to Selene's mid-arm, and raised her eyebrows questioningly. That would cut off a half-foot of hair. Nothing drastic, just a small change. It wasn't enough.

"Higher," Selene said evenly.

Anise moved them even with her shoulder.

"Higher."

Anise swallowed, and moved them even with her earlobe with a frown.

"Higher."

Anise sighed. "Are you sure about this? You've thought it through?"

"Yes, Anise. Now stop stalling and _cut_!"

"_Alright_," Anise said. "Alright." She moved the scissors even with the top of Selene's ear. Her face was hard; she wouldn't go any further. "How do you want this too look?"

"Use your discretion. I trust you."

Anise groaned. Silence, and then, "Alright."

She cut the thick strand hanging down by Selene's face, and sighed. After twenty more minutes of groaning, grumbling, and arguing on Anise's part, all of Selene's hair was gone.

It was an odd feeling. She felt lighter. Unburdened. Until she looked in the mirror and realized…she looked like a man. Not even a man; men wore their hair longer than this. She looked like a boy.

Oh, gods.

She tried not to show her apprehension to her sister-in-law, but Anise wasn't a fool.

"Oh, gods," the woman echoed Selene's thought. "I knew it. I shouldn't have listened to you. Don't worry. We can get you a headscarf or –"

Selene stood and calmly took Anise's hands. "Calm down. It doesn't look bad. It's exactly what I wanted. It's perfect."

Somehow, reassuring Anise had helped Selene to calm down, herself. At least, until the next day when she had to go out in public.

She'd looked through every dress she owned, looking for the most feminine one. She finally settled on a white one with a clinging bodice and a plunging neckline. She put jingling bangles on both wrists, and a chain with bells on her ankle. Lastly, she fastened a gleaming armband around her upper arm. She would attract attention, but at least it would be on her own terms. Nobody would mistake her for a boy in this.

Still, she couldn't gather the courage to go to the marketplace until late in the day. The sun was already setting, but apparently, there was enough light to see by, since people were staring at her. They stared wide-eyed, some ceasing what they'd been doing to watch her walk down the street.

_You can handle it_, she told herself. As long as none of them called her a boy, she'd be fine. _They may think you look strange, but no one will mistake you for male. You have half your chest hanging out._

She lifted her chin. She was feminine, even with her hair this short. And even if everyone on this island thought she looked ridiculous – even if the gods themselves descended to jeer her – it wouldn't matter. She'd done this for herself, no one else, and she refused to regret it.

She walked over to a stand selling fruit. "Hello," she said, smiling widely.

The stand owner's gazed drifted down her body, but his expression remained unreadable. "What can I do for you?"

Alright. Not a thrilling reception, but it hardly mattered. "I would love a pomegranate."

The man reached into a basket and wordlessly handed her the fruit. "One drachma."

She paid, gave the man a brilliant smile, and turned to go.

And bumped right into some man's chest.

He was huge, a hulking column of a man who towered menacingly over her. He was dressed in black leather, and his black hair – longer than hers, for the love of the gods – was swept back from his face. His violet eyes were somehow fierce and hypnotizing at the same time. And he was unimaginably beautiful. A nymph.

He was standing scant inches away, watching her with a steady gaze. He didn't look pleased. Heat radiated from him, and she was struck with the urge to grab his roped arms and kiss her way up to his gorgeous lips. The sensation was strong, but fleeting. Replaced quickly by terror. What did he want? Why was he scowling like that at her?

She stared up at the man, stepped back and came up hard against the table. "Hey!" she heard from the stand owner. "Watch what you're doing," he snapped.

The nymph's gaze broke from Selene and flickered to the stand owner. The nymph didn't move, he didn't speak. His eyes just narrowed, and the man behind the table went wide-eyed, sputtering for a moment, before gruffly telling them that he had other customers and that they needed to move along.

The nymph ignored the man. "You're that siren." Not a question, but a certainty. "The one who sang of her lover's betrayal."

"Yes," she replied softly. She didn't know what to think. This was the man from the other night, the man who'd said her song was lovely from across the room. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. Just as with the other night, the sound of his low timbre strummed along her nerves and took root in her soul, leaving her breathless.

And now she stood gaping up at him, with what was probably a terrified and amazed look on her face.

He looked upset. She'd never dealt with an angry nymph warrior before. She'd actually tried to avoid the race altogether, for fear of succumbing to a nymph instead of saving herself for Aiden. How ironic that was.

"Why did you cut your hair?" he asked after a lengthy silence.

Her hand flew to her hair. "I-I…I just…needed a change." Dear gods. If he hated it…. She couldn't handle a nymph not liking her hair. Nymphs found everyone attractive. If he insulted her, then that meant she truly was ugly, and had made a horrible mistake.

He was staring at her, straight faced. He didn't say a word, and it was driving her mad. As ridiculous as she felt even _thinking_ this, she needed him to try to seduce her. Anything to prove that _someone_ could still find her attractive, even if it was just a nymph who complimented her only to get into her bed; someone who would take her with or without the short hair.

"Well?" she found herself asking, fear chased away by annoyance at his silence.

"If you need a change," he said. "Just leave your lover."

"I already have." In a manner of speaking.

"Or I could kill him for you," he offered, still straight-faced. "If you'd like."

Aiden dead? She couldn't even think about it. "Why would you say that?" Her voice was more offended than she meant for it to be, but the nymph didn't seem to take notice or care.

"This man has hurt you, has he not?" When she looked up at him again with shocked, wide eyes, he went on. "That's as good a reason as any."

She was too stunned to answer. "How can you just simplify a person's life like that?"

"I am a warrior." As though that explained everything. "Besides that, with him gone, you'll belong to me."

How many times was it possible to be shocked in a single conversation? Not only by him, either. She was more surprised that part of her wanted to jump into his arms at those words, and beg him to help her forget Aiden.

She gasped. He'd wrapped an arm around her waist.

"No," she said before she could convince herself to accept. She couldn't have two men in a row use and then abandon her, even if it was implicit from the start with this nymph. "You don't even know my name."

He hadn't removed his arm from around her waist, and she didn't step away. She couldn't. She needed someone to find her beautiful. "Then tell me your name, little siren."

"Selene," she replied before she could stop herself.

"A lovely name for a lovely girl. I'm called Dorian," he murmured, drawing her closer and lowering his mouth toward hers. "And now you will take me to your home, and take me inside you."

"Yes." _Yes?_ But she realized that she would do it. She would go home, and allow this nymph to do whatever he wanted with her. She knew it was wrong, but she didn't care.

The next thing she knew, they were crashing through her front door, lips joined and bodies frenzied for any flat surface they could fall on top off, or press themselves up against. She pulled him toward the bedroom – though he didn't need much encouragement, only a general direction – and they fell together on her bed.

He moved to untie the sash around her waist, but she caught his hands. "Leave it on." How much less feminine would she seem without the dress?

He stopped for a moment. "The dress comes off," he said huskily. He loosened the knot with expert hands, and had her divested of her clothes in one short moment.

Everything after that seemed to fly.

She woke up the next morning to him nuzzling her bare shoulder, his erection pressing between her legs.

She sat up in shock. "Dear gods," she murmured before she realized that she was speaking aloud.

The little siren had kicked him out.

She'd jumped from the bed as if it had been on fire, and bolted for her dress on the floor. She'd looked panicked as she demanded that he leave with a horrified look on her face.

Dorian had tried to convince her otherwise, but she wouldn't let him within five feet of her to utilize his usual methods of persuasion.

What else could he have done? He left.

It wasn't much of a loss, he'd hoped to have her at least once more before returning to the palace, but it wasn't a necessity.

He flirted a bit on his way, but avoided anything extensive. After all, he had someplace to be. He walked into the arena just in time to watch the others prepare their weapons for the first matches.

"Dorian," Shivawn greeted. "Shall we have another go at this, or has all your anger left you?"

"He's clearly not as tightly wound as he was before," Terryn laughed. "I doubt you'll get the same amount of fight out of him."

"Good night, Dorian?" Broderick wanted to know.

Dorian smiled. "A great night." He laughed. "There's a siren somewhere very happy this morning."

Selene couldn't breathe. What had she done?

She'd heard it was impossible to resist a nymph, but she hadn't even put up a fight. One look, one touch, one word, and she'd given herself up to him.

How had she allowed it?

She panicked as she woke, feeling him beside her – practically _in_side her again – and all she could think to do was tell him to leave before she made the mistake a second – alright, _fifth_ – time.

He'd looked a bit confused, but after a few minutes of his attempts to get her to change her mind, he'd gone.

She'd immediately run to Kendrick and Anise's store, getting curious glances the whole way. Anise had just finished selling a glass vase, when Selene burst in.

"What's the matter?" she asked on seeing Selene's expression. "Nobody insulted you, did they?" She came toward the girl, with her arms out as if to hug her. "They're wrong, you look so beautiful."

Selene shoved aside the implication that Anise was just placating her, and shook her head furiously. "I…I spent the night with a nymph."

Anise's eyes widened. "_What?_"

Her hands flew to her temples. Her thoughts were jumping around her head like enraged formorians, ripping and tearing at her. "I was vulnerable, and he looked at me like he found me attractive, and all I wanted was for someone to think I was beautiful."

"_I_ think you're –"

"Someone other than my brother's mate who is just trying to make me better by saying something she doesn't believe."

Anise looked hurt for a second. "I'm not lying. It's really growing on me."

"Fine," Selene said. Hopefully, her tone was apologetic. "I didn't do it for approval, anyway." She squeezed her eyes shut in denial. "Which is why I don't understand why I just gave my virginity to some nymph warrior who tossed me a scrap of affection."

Anise's eyes widened again. "You'd never been with a man before this?"

Selene shook her head, pressing her fists into her eyes with a groan. "No, I hadn't. I'd been saving myself for Aiden." She rolled her eyes. "Aiden, who's never wanted me.

"And now I've been with someone behind his back. Just like he did to me. I'm as bad as him."

"Calm down, Selene," Anise said soothingly. "Everything will be fine. All you have to do is figure out what to do about Aiden."

Selene nodded.

"Do you want him back?"

"No," she replied fiercely. "Never."

"Then, you have to tell him. Find him. Tell him that it's over and why, and then walk away," Anise advised. "And no matter what, don't let anything he says dissuade you."

Selene left the shop with her sister-in-law's words ringing in her ears. _Tell him it's over. Walk away. Don't let anything he says dissuade you._ She could do that. She could.

But by the time she saw him on the street, she wasn't sure. This was Aiden. The only man she'd ever loved. The inspiration for almost every song she'd ever written. The man she had thought she'd spend her life with.

He caught sight of her, and his step faltered. She kept up her steady pace in his direction, and he walked quickly toward her.

"Selene," he murmured, looking her over from head to toe. "Look at you. You look breathtaking."

"What?" Breathtaking? Just when she'd hardened her heart against him, he went and said exactly what she loved to hear from him a mere two days ago: some tiny proof that he approved of her.

"I've never seen you look so lovely," he breathed, his voice reverent. "When did you do this?"

"The day before yesterday." She bit her lip. "So you…like it?"

"I adore it," he said. "You're so beautiful."

Now, he was sounding like the old Aiden. The same Aiden who had gods knew how many women behind her back. _This_ Aiden, she could deal with.

She took a deep breath, straightening her spine. "We need to talk." But, then she faltered. _The best way is to just come right out and say it, _she reminded herself. "I spent the night with a nymph."

Selene gasped softly, and her eyes widened. She hadn't meant to say _that_. She wanted to confront him on his sins, not confess her own.

"_What?_" His eyes were wider than hers, and the blood had drained from his face. "What do you mean, you spent the –"

She shook her head. "I'm telling you that whatever we had between us is over. We're finished."

"For a _nymph_?" he stammered. "He'll never be faithful to you. He'll only break your heart."

It struck her as ironic that he would say that.

"It's not for anyone," she told him. "It's for me."

He caught her by the arms and all but shook her. "What can I do?" he wanted to know. "I can't lose you."

Where had all this loyalty been before?

"This isn't an ultimatum. It's a notification." She couldn't be so cold, even in light of what he'd done. "Aiden, having you in my life was wonderful." – At least, until that last part. – "But this needs to end. I don't want anything from you, just space."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not letting you go. I don't care what you did. I need you, Selene."

Why did he have to say all the right things _now_? It would be so much simpler if forgiveness was what she'd wanted. Something in her mind said that maybe she could forgive him. They were even. Now they could start over.

Except she didn't know if he'd been with one woman without her knowledge or a dozen.

"I'm sorry, Aiden, but you can't change my mind. I –" She looked away. "I saw you with yo-your…lover," she finished lamely. "Three days ago. I was going to prepare dinner for you as a surprise, and I walked in on you and her –"

"This is going to sound ridiculous," he interrupted. "But she was a nymph. She came up to my stand, and I couldn't help but agree when she asked to go back to my home. You know I never leave my stand in the middle of the day. I was under her spell. You have to believe me."

Did she believe him? Did it matter?

"I forgave you," he reminded her. "You should do the same. You can't be angry at me for something we both did."

"I'm not angry," she said with a shake of her head. "But we can't be together. Every time I think of you, I see you two together. It makes me want to be physically ill. I can't live like that." She turned and walked away.

"I'm not giving up," he called to her.

She kept walking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

Dorian spotted her in the glassblower's shop, after following her scent through town. It was times like these that he was glad for his sense of smell. He could track a dragon across the skies, he could know if a demon was stalking him through a forest. He could pick of the sweet scent of a certain siren in the Outer City, and follow it through the streets.

She was behind the table reserved for the seller. She was sitting with her chin resting in her hand, looking dejected. With the vases and other glassware framing her on all sides, she looked positively idyllic. Her eyes gazed down, and her soft mouth was unsmiling. Light seemed to shine from every corner of the room, converging on the central spot that was her.

He stepped into the shop, and she lifted her gaze to his. It was almost as though she sensed him. Promising, to say the least.

Her mouth fell open, and she sat up straighter. "Dorian –"

"If you left with me," he started, his voice a low rumble, "I could banish that look from your face forever."

Her eyes followed him as he loped inside, and he was glad to hear her breath quicken. "What are you doing here?"

"I came for you."

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. "Why?" Her eyes narrowed in what looked like frustration. "You'd like to by a vase?"

Her hostility stung. It was almost as if she didn't want him, but judging from her actions the night before, that wasn't so. "I want you to come with me. I want to finish what we started."

"We finished," she said, looking at him with agitation gleaming in her eyes.

"Hardly." He stepped up to the table, and laid both hands on it. "I had further plans for you." He knew his eyes were narrowed in response, and his voice was just as caustic as hers was. "I've never been thrust from someone's bed before, and I don't intend to begin now."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and her jaw clenched. He'd said something wrong. She jumped to her feet, and stalked around the table to glare up at him. "That's your reason, is it?" she asked. "You want to preserve some kind of record? You want every woman who's ever encountered you to beg for your touch?" She slammed a tiny hand down on the table. "I won't be used by some nymph –"

"If anyone was being used, it was me. You wanted to get over your lover –"

She erupted, and, godsdamnit, it was glorious. "You think I would have given you my virginity just because –" She cut off, not because he'd interrupted her, but because his mouth had fallen open. Blood rushed to her face, and a strangled sound escaped her throat before she turned and ran out the back door of the shop.

He was too stunned to move. He should have known. There was no hint of a man's scent on her, and he'd felt the barrier inside her. He'd been confused for a moment, unsure of what he was feeling, but knowing that she was wonderfully tight. He'd wondered at that briefly, but she hadn't reacted, and so he'd let it go. He'd never taken a virgin before, but had he ever done so, he would have expected the woman to groan or cry, or at least flinch when he broke her barrier. She'd done none of those things, and he hadn't been gentle with her.

Guilt flooded him. That explained her anger. Perhaps he _had_ been too rough with her. If he'd hurt her…

He was about to follow her out the door, when a woman entered the room through the same door Selene had just exited. She paused mid-step when she saw Dorian.

"Yes?" she started, staring unsurely at him. "May I help you?"

He wanted to ask her to tell Selene he was sorry. He wanted to demand to know where she'd run off to. He settled on leaving, staying silent as he exited the shop and walked back toward the palace. He encountered many flirtatious women and some hostile men, but the look on his face must've put them all off.

Before he knew it, he was in the practice ring. Some noticed him, and he acknowledged each person that spoke to him, but otherwise he remained silent. His thoughts were elsewhere.

"Dorian," a voice said nearby. He turned and saw Broderick walking toward him. "Feeling lucky today, my friend? Care for a little competition?" Broderick swung a sword, a wicked grin on his face.

Dorian didn't respond immediately, as he watched his friend approach him. Broderick was tall as Dorian, with skin tanned slightly darker than Dorian's was, dark blonde hair and dark eyes. The man was roughly the same size as Dorian, though it could be argued that Broderick was a better warrior. He was, after all, second-in-command to Valerian himself, and leader of the elite.

Dorian found himself wondering if Selene would prefer someone like Broderick, or even Broderick himself. If this man had been her lover, would she have reacted the same way she had with Dorian, shunning him the following day?

Perhaps, since her anger seemed to stem from a desire not to be used. The only difference is that Broderick mightn't have returned to her today like Dorian had.

"Dorian?" Broderick asked, still awaiting an answer.

"Yes." He hefted his own sword. "I accept your challenge."

The smile widened on his friend's face. "Excellent."

They entered a ring apart from the others and began. By the end, both warriors were bloody, but Dorian more so. Normally, he would've accepted this loss with humility. Yet this defeat, coming on the heels of the draw between himself and Shivawn, was upsetting. No matter that Broderick was a superior warrior. Dorian wasn't in a mood to be proven inferior after the night – or rather, the morning – he'd had.

"Again," he demanded, drawing a surprised look from Broderick's face.

"I've already defeated you," Broderick reminded. As though Dorian needed reminding. "I was clearly in a position to strike the deathblow. Are you sure you want to try me again?" Contrary to his words, he raised his sword. "You seem distracted."

He refused to be cowed into backing down. "A different weapon, then? If you need variety."

Broderick nodded, seeming to accept Dorian's brush-off of his question. Then motioned to some of the onlookers to provide spears. The weapons were tossed to them, and Broderick caught his with a flourish, twirling the length.

_Calm_, Dorian told himself. _Remain calm, and you can win this. Let him come to you._

Broderick twirled his spear again, ending with the point aimed at Dorian. Dorian blocked easily enough, and was able to push his opponent back with enough force to make him stumble. The amusement left Broderick's eyes as Dorian's blade sliced through the air, as a look of determination erupted on Dorian's face.

Broderick leapt back, narrowly escaping Dorian's blade. While Broderick was off balance, Dorian lifted his spear and lunged. Broderick's leg shot into the air, kicking the tip of the spear into the sand and nearly taking Dorian with it. While Dorian was disoriented, Broderick caught him square in the temple with his fist.

Dorian jumped back, waiting for the pinpricks of light to clear from his vision. By the time he could see again, Broderick was preparing to punch him a second time. He pivoted, knocking Broderick away. He dodged the spear, and used his momentum to roll, grabbing up his own weapon in the process.

They continued their game of parry and retreat for what seemed like hours, each gaining new injuries and aggravating their earlier ones. Dorian was even slightly happy with the results until he lost his footing, and Broderick's blade caught the side of his neck. The skin sliced open, and Dorian felt the spurt of warm liquid, followed by the steady trickle onto his chest.

Broderick's eyes widened in surprise, and he stilled his spear. "No more," he said, reaching for Dorian.

He smacked Broderick's hand away. "I'm fine." Just then the world shifted, and he lost his footing. Broderick caught him before he hit the ground.

Broderick's palm was against the wound the next instant, stanching the flow. Dorian felt the sting as his vanquisher's sweat seeped into his bloodstream.

Broderick called for help as the world lost focus and everything went black.

xXx

Dorian woke to Joachim's woman standing over him, mopping his brow with a worried expression. "How do you feel?" she asked. Her voice made him cringe, but by this point she was used to the reaction.

Brenna's voice was rough, as if a thousand tiny knives were slicing their way down her vocal cords. Dorian didn't know what had happened to her, but, whatever it was, Dorian was sure it wasn't recent.

In the months after she first arrived, she'd looked affronted whenever someone showed reaction to her husky voice, but now, she hardly seemed to notice. Her lover, Joachim, must have expelled any shyness or embarrassment she felt because of her voice. She had even stopped talking in fragmented sentences.

Dorian tried to sit up, but Brenna put a hand on his shoulder to gently push him back down. He went willingly. "Don't try to sit up. You need to rest. You've lost a lot of blood." She looked down at him, frowning. "Is there someone I can call for you? Do you have a woman?"

"No," he almost replied, but then Selene's face materialized in his mind. Would she come if he summoned her? Would she accept him?

Brenna's dark eyebrows arched high on her creamy brow. "Dorian?"

He looked up, his gaze colliding with eyes a lighter brown than Selene's. "There's a siren."

xXx

Selene jumped at a knock on her door. She wasn't expecting anyone, and it was after dark. Instinct made her sit perfectly still. There were some species that could sense the heat of one's body, but not many. She was hoping that it wasn't one of those waiting for her.

There was another knock, this time louder. Hopefully it wasn't a prelude to her door being broken down. She lived on a relatively peaceful part of the island, but that didn't mean that demons and other violent species didn't make their way over from time to time. They knew which parts were protected by warriors and which villages lived quietly apart from the others, expecting that their peaceful natures would prevent others from wanting to harm them. Either way, people knew better than to show up at someone's door unannounced, especially at night.

"Selene?" an unfamiliar voice said from the other side of the door. "My name is Broderick. I'm second in command of the nymph army. I was sent by Dorian. He needs you."

Needed her? What had happened? She decided she didn't care. She remained stock still. Perhaps he would give up and go.

"I know you're there. I can hear your heart beating." He was silent for a moment. "You don't have to open the door, but can you at least say something so that I know I'm at the right house?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but then though better of it. She shook her head to clear it.

"I know you're listening, so I'll just tell you. Dorian's been injured. He lost a lot of blood, and his body is reacting aversely. Our healer says that the only chance he'll have is if we find someone for him."

"A woman." It was the first time she'd spoken, and she hated that her voice came out sounding so feeble. "A lover."

There was a slight hesitation. "Yes."

"You could find no one else?" She'd heard rumors of people hiding so as not to be tempted when a nymph showed his face, but not every woman was mated, and many sought the men out instead of running from them. Surely, he could find _some_body.

"He asked for you specifically."

She felt her eyes widen at the shock of it. "What happened to him?"

"He was injured," he repeated gruffly.

Yes. He'd said that. "How?"

Another hesitation. Then a frustrated sigh. "Will you come? He needs you. The healer says the damage may be irreparable unless he gets you right now."

Selene found herself opening the door and peeking out. A man was standing there, dressed all in black leather, the uniform all nymph warriors wore, she knew. He had dark blond hair tied back, and some of it hung down into his eyes. He was tall, and he looked as strong as Dorian. His expression was exasperated, and when he realized she was standing in the doorway, he began to look anxious.

"Everything you say is true?" she asked, unable to mask her suspicion.

"Every word."

Selene cracked the door open a bit more and took a deep breath. "Alright." She quickly stepped outside and locked the door behind her, walking away. Before she could change her mind. "Where are we going?"

"Our palace."

The nymph palace, where there would be men roaming the halls, looking for whatever female they could get their hands on. Dear gods, would she be to stand it? This one warrior made her infinitely nervous. Not to mention Dorian, who at once awed and terrified her. How much worse would an entire building of them be?

Her step faltered for a moment when she saw the massive centaur Broderick must've ridden to her home. She usually walked anyplace she needed to go – she didn't like the loss of control she felt when her feet weren't touching the ground.

He mounted the centaur and held out a hand to her, intending to help her mount behind him. She hesitated once more, knowing that once she was on the centaur's back, this nymph could take her wherever he pleased, and she wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop him. He was after all, a stranger. And no knew she was with him. And she had nothing to go on except his word that Dorian was hurt.

And that was if she chose to believe that Dorian even remembered her well enough to ask for her in his time of need.

After a moment of waiting for her to take his hand, the man called Broderick's brow furrowed and her looked at her with obvious worry. "Are you unwell?"

She imagined how she must appear to him. A cowering, tense female nearly in a state of panic over mounting a centaur. She forced out a breath and tried to compose her expression. "I'm fine," she murmured, grasping his hand without looking into his face.

"Hold on, miss," the centaur said, and started off at a near gallop.

She didn't speak as they rode, lost to her own thoughts. There were so many questions she had, and she intended to ask Dorian each and every one of them.

They rode swiftly, and she contemplated asking him to stop so she could just walk. They could probably still move quickly on foot. His long legs could probably travel much faster than her slow pace would force him to walk. She sighed, and attempted to hold on tight to him without creating too much contact.

Before she knew it, they were at the palace. Broderick dismounted, and helped her down, grasping her by the waist.

"Thank you," Broderick said to the centaur, and Selene echoed the statement more softly.

"It was an honor, sir." He looked at Selene and smiled. "If I may say, I've heard you sing. You have a lovely voice."

She felt the blood rush to her face. It never occurred to her that people would recognize her. "Thank you, sir."

She stood there as the centaur trotted toward the stables.

Broderick gestured toward the palace entrance. Selene walked past a curious-looking guard. She stepped away from him, toward Broderick, before she realized that wasn't much safer.

She followed Broderick, trying to resist looking when people looked at her. She had to remind herself that the staring probably had nothing to do with her, but her unusual hair style. Most nodded to Broderick, and some smiled at her.

She followed him to the sickroom, then stepped inside alone.

Dorian was lying flat on his back on the mattress. He didn't move as she walked in, not even opening his eyes. His skin looked bloodless, as if he were already dead. His hair was stuck to his scalp with sweat. She could hear his breathing, shallow and labored.

Just seeing him like that made her feel sick to her stomach.

She stepped over to the bed, and started to reach for him, but pulled away when someone spoke behind her.

"Selene?" said a raspy voice. Selene whipped around to find a pretty woman with dark hair tied back in a scarf.

"Yes?" she answered, stepping protectively in front of Dorian's bed before she could stop herself. She clasped her hands in front of her and stepped away self-consciously.

The woman's eyes went to Dorian's prone body. "He asked for you."

Selene flicked another glance at Dorian. "What happened? I hadn't heard of the nymphs warring with anyone lately." That didn't mean anything, of course. How many wars had been almost over by the time she'd heard of them? She'd had no vested interest, and so hadn't cared to hear the news.

The woman sighed, moving closer, but not touching Dorian. "They said he was in the practice ring with Broderick, and they both got a bit too aggressive."

That explained why the man had looked so guilty, and had refused to answer her when she asked about the events leading up to Dorian's injury.

"The blade cut his carotid –" When Selene looked over at the healer in confusion, the woman corrected herself "– the main blood supply to his brain." She pointed to the bandage covering Dorian's neck. "It was a clean slice. I was able to mend it, but a lot of blood was lost."

Selene looked back at Dorian. "Broderick said the damage was irreparable."

"Yes," the healer replied with a sigh. "It looks as if the blood flow to his brain is too little. With such a loss, all of his organs –" she paused to revise her answer once more " – his whole body is working harder than it should to circulate his thinned blood. Not to mention that his brain may be permanently damaged."

"So he won't get better?" she whispered. Unable to help herself, he stroked a hand along his brow. "Shouldn't he be able to regenerate blood?"

"He might," the healer replied. "I have to say, though, that all depends on you."

Her eyes were ripped from Dorian in shock. "_Me?_ I just met him yesterday."

The woman shrugged. "The heart wants what the heart wants. They tried to bring him others, but he only reacted when he spoke your name."

Selene looked down at him in shock, seeing him with new eyes. "The other women they brought him got no reaction from him?"

What could that mean? It only added to the questions that had already been raised.

The healer looked Selene over with a knowing look. "It looks like the choice has been made."

That made no sense. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It looks like you're his mate," the healer said, smiling slightly. She looked over at Dorian once more. "I'll leave you two alone."


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

Then Selene was alone with Dorian. Her mate. What did _that_ mean? She didn't know this man. Didn't know his family, his friends, what he liked to do... Well, she knew one thing he liked to do. But she didn't even know his family name. And now she was expected to be his mate? How had the healer known this? How had Dorian? Did he even? All she had for proof were the words of one healer whose name Selene didn't even know.

Conflict beat through her. She wanted to talk to Dorian about this, but she didn't want to get anymore entangled than she needed to be. But how could she not. She wanted to know if he was alright, and if the stories she'd been told could be trusted. On the other hand, he probably should be left to rest, not awoken with a barrage of questions.

But hadn't Broderick just told her that Dorian needed a woman to revive, the healer adding that the woman would have to be Selene?

She looked into Dorian's face. He looked so helpless. The contrast between this weakened man and his usual, vibrant self was shocking.

_His usual self?_, she asked herself with a roll of her eyes. _You met him yesterday. You know nothing of his usual self._ Yet, she had to admit that there had been a connection between them. She'd assumed that it was just the allure of the nymph, but it could have been something more. It was the reason that she had forced him to go that morning – as much as she could force this powerful man to do anything. It was the reason she had reacted so badly when he'd come to the shop to tell her that they had unfinished business. Her fear had made her lash out at him every time he attempted to get closer to her.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't just molest him in his sleep. It had been implied that she _should_ do so to strengthen him, but that was ridiculous. She hadn't associated with many of the other species in Atlantis, and all the nymphs she'd ever met had been mated to sirens that she'd known all her life. She wasn't sure how the species got its strength, or how it dealt with weakness.

She hesitated for a second. Then feeling like an idiot, she leaned over and kissed him. On the cheek. She turned away quickly, feeling foolish. She couldn't do this. This was ridiculous and awkward.

Someone took a deep breath behind her. Dorian, she could only assume. She whipped back around to see his eyes open, and his gaze focused on her. His breath was shallow, quick.

"Dorian," she whispered. "Calm down. Please. You'll overexert yourself." Something like anger and frustration flashed briefly in his eyes, but his breathing eventually slowed.

She sighed in relief. What had just happened? Had he woken up just from that kiss?

His eyelids squeezed shut in more of the frustration she'd already seen. "Sel…" He trailed off. "Sele…" His voice was little more than a whisper, but it rung loud in the tiny room.

"Don't speak," she instructed frantically. "You need to conserve your strength if you're going to be alright."

His eyes flashed again, this time helpless.

She ran to the door, hoping the healer wasn't far. Maybe she could do something that Selene couldn't. The second Selene made it to the door, though, Dorian moaned and she couldn't help but rush back.

"Need…," he started, but couldn't finish. His eyes shut again in obvious concentration.

"I don't know what to do," she said, her voice frantic. "I'll get the healer, she can help you."

She turned again and he forced out a rough breath, freezing her in place.

"You…" he said. "Need…"

"I need…what? What are you trying to say, Dorian?" She was hysterical from her confusion and feelings of uselessness, practically on the verge of tears. What did he need her to do?

"Need…" he forced out, "you."

The blood stopped beating in her veins. "Me?" she asked breathlessly.

His gaze shot to her. He looked satisfied from having successfully communicated his message. Selene, though, felt sick.

It was one thing to be seduced by him when she was vulnerable and needing any kind affirmation. It was quite another to have sex with him…to save his life. It didn't seem right. But he was her mate, according to the healer. And even if she weren't his mate, how could she not, when it _was_ his life at stake?

"Dorian," she gritted out, the inside of her mouth feeling like it was coated in sand. "I…I'll be honest with you. I don't know how comfortable I am with this." Her eyes closed momentarily, "But I can't let you be hurt."

Slowly, her heart racing, she leaned down and kissed him. His lips were smooth, not chapped like she'd imagined they'd be. She felt him exhale slowly, deeply. Her own breath was caught in her lungs.

xXx

Selene moved off of him, her skin slick with their sweat and other fluids. He mourned the loss of her warmth, but he let her go. He was surprised, though, when she didn't just move away, but stood and began gathering her clothes.

He reached out and caught her hand. "Where are you going?"

"To…relieve my bladder," she said. She shook off his grip, and wandered across the room.

"Hurry back," he murmured, the threads of sleep already pulling at him. Usually with a woman, he was energized after lying with her. But the little siren had tired him out, made him lethargic, like he could wrap her in his arms and sink into sleep with her cradled against him all night. Especially after what had just occurred. She'd healed him, very possibly saved his life, and proved to him that they were meant to be together.

He awoke again to find Broderick standing over him. The man looked worried, even more so when Dorian reached over to cover Selene's nakedness, only to find her gone. Dorian shot up in the bed, looking around the room.

"Where is Selene?" he demanded. "Did you send her away?" He stood and paced the room, as if doing so would provide him a better view than sitting on the bed would. It didn't. Even if it had, Selene was gone.

"What reason would I have to send your lover away?" Broderick responded. "I thought _you _had dismissed her."

Dorian turned on his friend, feral. "Why in the gods' names would I do such a thing?"

"I don't know," Broderick replied. "I was asking myself the same question when I saw her leave."

"She left?" His voice was murderous, lethal even in the face of such a good friend. "When?"

"A few hours ago. I tried to stop her, ask her if she needed an escort, but she did not even pause in her stride. I was concerned. She was crying, and I thought perhaps you had…"

Crying? Why? It was obvious what reason Broderick had assumed. Many women felt bereft when their nymph lovers became bored with them. It wasn't uncommon to see a weeping woman leaving a nymph residence, curses falling behind her like tears. It had happened a handful of times with Dorian himself. But not Selene. Never Selene.

"I didn't send her away. In fact, I specifically told her to hurry back." This made no sense. Why would she go? He'd thought that her acquiescence was proof that she'd accepted him as her mate. Her man.

And now she was walking home alone, in the middle of the night, at the mercy of whatever nymph, dragon, or vampire she ran into. His kind and the vampires were allied, but that didn't mean that Dorian didn't know that they were just as capable of doing horrible things to an unaccompanied female as any other species on the island. She wasn't a nymph, and that protection didn't extend to her. And if she were found by a demon…

Before Broderick could speak another word, Dorian had pulled on his pants and run from the room. He dodged a few people as he ran, but mostly the halls were deserted. People were busy enjoying each other at this time of night.

He ran to the stables, and startled several of the centaurs awake when he shouldered through the doors.

He didn't bother with greetings as he looked over the still-startled creatures. "Which one of you took Broderick to a female siren's home earlier?"

"I did, sir," one horse-man said, stepping forward out of his stall.

"I'll pay you handsomely if you can get me there, as quickly as possible." He crossed the room and mounted the centaur's back.

"Yes, sir." And they were off, through the forest, toward her village.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

Dorian searched the woods for her as he rode. That he saw nothing that hinted of rape or murder loosened the knot in his chest a bit, but he wouldn't be satisfied until she was whole and healthy and in his arms.

He got to her home, and banged on the door.

A moment later, a man answered. That his appearance gave him away to be Selene's brother was the only thing that saved his life. Dorian wanted no man save himself in her house. Ever.

The man looked out with narrowed eyes. "Who are you? Why did you come here so late at night?"

"Is Selene here?" Dorian asked, looking over the man's shoulder. "She left me hours ago, and I need to see her."

"_You're_ the one who let my sister walk alone through the forest in the middle of the night?" The man's voice was caustic, and Dorian understood how he felt, though he didn't appreciate the implication behind the words.

First things, first. "So she _is_ here? She _did_ make it home safely?"

"No thanks to you." The man's eyes narrowed further and his lip curled back in disgust. "You sent her home alone, in tears. And now you have the nerve to show up here? What, you want to use her some more?"

It was Dorian's eyes that narrowed now. His voice lowered lethally, and he stepped closer to Selene's brother. "I would _never_ use her. She told me she was returning, and when I woke again, she was gone. I did _not_ leave her. I did _not_ abandon her. I did _not_ send her through the forest alone to be mistreated by gods' only know what kind of creatures –"

"No, you only mistreat her _yourself_," the brother growled.

Dorian had to respect that he hadn't backed down in defense of his sister. Yet that didn't mean Dorian would allow the man to put him off. "I would never mistreat her. She's my mate. I told her. Others told her. She doesn't believe me. She doesn't know what it means. She thrusts me away at every opportunity."

Pure disgust covered the male siren's face. "No, she doesn't know what that means. Thank the gods. And I've gone through a lot of trouble to make sure she didn't ever find out. It was bad enough I couldn't keep her from that fool, Aiden. I wasn't going to let her fall prey to a nymph, too." He said the word 'nymph' like the species was the most vile thing he'd ever come across.

"You're her brother, not her father nor her mate. It's not your place to protect her." If Dorian had his way, there would be no need for Selene to solicit her brother's assistance ever again.

"I've been the one to look after her all of her life," the man said. "I've gone through a lot of trouble to be sure that she was affected by only good influences. I've kept her safe when no one else could. I'm not about to trust her care to the dubious affections of some nymph warrior."

"You think she's safer in her brother's home than in the care of 'some nymph warrior'? Someone who'll defend her to his last breath? Someone who'll put her above all else?" He growled at the man. "I can guard her much better than any siren, even if that siren is her brother. You probably have a mate of your own. You can't devote all your time to watching out for your sister when you'll have a woman and children to protect. What then?"

"Even then I'll protect her –" the brother sneered.

"You've sheltered her all her life," Dorian said. "Why?"

"For her own good."

"It serves no purpose to keep her ignorant," Dorian spat, his voice disgusted with the man in front of him. "You've kept her so in the dark that she knows nothing about nearly all the species that live on this island. You've only hurt her."

"Don't talk to me about hurting her!" the man shouted. "Everything I've done was for her. Do you know that she was terrified of nymphs? Ever since she was six years old, and I had to tell her that our parents were killed in a war between the nymphs and the demons. She would wake up screaming, convinced that nymph and demon warriors were coming through her window to kill her like they killed our mother and father. I had to keep her in this village, because the sight of a demon or a nymph on the street would petrify her where she stood. Only in these last few years have the dreams lessened. But she's still afraid. She may have enough of a handle on it that she can walk the streets without being in constant terror, but she's still frightened. And why wouldn't she be? If two innocent sirens could get killed walking through an area near where a battle is raging, then what's to stop one of those volatile creatures from killing other innocents later?"

Dorian was knocked speechless. So much made sense. Her fear. Her lack of knowledge about the ways of nymphs. Her hostility toward him. Everything.

"I am sorry for your loss," Dorian said quietly. "But your sister is my mate. I will not give up on winning her. And just so you know…" He stepped closer so that he loomed over the male siren. "Your sister is not nearly the frightened little thing you take her for. She saved my life tonight. Tell her I owe her my life, that my life if officially hers for the taking."

The siren stood there for a moment, glaring. Then he slammed the door in Dorian's face.

Dorian turned to the centaur. "Thank you. I won't forget the good turn you've done me tonight. You may go."

The man-horse nodded once. "Shall I send someone here, sir?"

"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "I'll be here a while, and I won't be in danger. Be safe in returning, my friend. Sleep well."

"My thanks."

He watched the centaur leave, and leaned back against a nearby tree. And just waited.

It had been light for less than an hour when Selene stepped out the door, followed closely by her brother. Selene looked in Dorian's direction, and the blood drained from her face when their gazes collided. Was she _that_ afraid of him?

He'd remedy that. Dorian crooked a finger at her, a smile curving the corners of his lips. She took a step in his direction before her brother caught her arm with a word murmured in her ear. She glanced back at the man, and frowned. Her brother put an arm around her with a glare toward Dorian, and steered her away.

The bastard thought that would deter Dorian? Laughable. The woman was his mate.

He followed them through the streets, keeping a distance between them, but not masking his intention.

They reached the same shop that he'd found her at the previous day, and the brother sent Selene in, but approached Dorian himself.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm protecting my mate. That's what I am supposed to do." In contrast to the brother's tone, Dorian's was smooth, unruffled. That was the tack he intended to take from this point on. He was willing to bide his time. He would shadow her every step if that was what it took to convince her of his sincerity.

"I thought I told you to leave my sister alone." His voice was even more enraged than before. A vein was throbbing in his forehead, as well. A sign that Dorian was winning this battle of wills between them. If only he could overcome Selene's objections so easily.

"I will not. She is my mate. I told _you_ that last night. I will win her, have no doubt." He looked the shorter man in the eye. "No matter what you do."

If he had to seduce her anew every day, he would. She would conquer her fear of nymphs – of him – if he had to fight an army to prove his devotion.

He stepped around her brother and walked into the glass shop.

Selene and another woman stood behind the table, examining a piece of glasswork. They muttered together, pointing at the clear surface in earnest and shaking their heads. It was the woman who'd tried to help Dorian the day before, he realized.

Then, as if she felt his presence – he adored that she could do that – Selene looked over her shoulder and right into his eyes. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath.

Her companion looked, too, smiling amiably. "May we help you?" His gaze remained on Selene, and Selene's on his as he stood there wordlessly. After a moment, the woman said, "I suppose not. Perhaps Selene can be more helpful than I." Her voice sounded amused as she stepped away from Selene, who caught her arm and tried to pull her back. But the woman pulled free with a teasing smile and slipped out the back door. Dorian fought a wave of relief that this woman wasn't as hostile as Selene's brother.

Selene forced out a breath, opening her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "I see you made it home unscathed." When she didn't reply, he went on. "You let me believe you would return in a moment. Then you walked in the middle of the night through the forest to be ravished by whatever male stumbled upon you."

"Don't waste your time," she mumbled, glancing away. "My brother's already lectured me."

Finally, something he and her abhorrent brother could agree on. "Then let me say this: the next time you want to leave me, tell me. I might try to convince you to stay, but if you insist, I will deliver you home safely. There's no need to conduct any pretense. I'd rather see you angry at me than dead."

"There will be no _next time_," she said shakily, looking way from him. "I stayed because you needed me. But it won't happen again."

He watched her for a moment while she looked everywhere but at him. She played with her fingers – fingers he had ample plans for – and shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"I nearly forgot. Thank you for saving my life last night." Her gaze shot unerringly to his, and the blood rushed to her dusky face before she looked down at her feet. "I could feel myself slipping away until you got there. I heard you talking to Brenna –" At her look of confusion, he clarified "– our healer. I couldn't make out what you said, but your presence gave me the strength to hold on."

She sucked in a breath through deliciously parted lips. She started to speak again, but cut herself off with a shake of her head.

"What? Tell me what you are thinking." He knew his voice sounded pleading, but he had to know. He approached the table, satisfied that she didn't back away or flee the room.

"Just…that I'm glad you're better. What you went through must have been terrifying."

Obviously, that wasn't what she was going to say, but he could tell she was sincere. It was enough. "I can think of more terrifying things. You, for instance. Leaving me. Breaking my heart and letting me die."

"What do you mean?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "You seem fine now. You don't need me anymore."

"I am a nymph," he told her. "And you are my mate. I need to make love to remain strong, and my body desires no one but you. Without your touch, I'll weaken and die."

"So be it," Dorian heard behind him. "Leave now."

Selene's cursed brother.

"Kendrick," Selene said, looking past Dorian. "Please leave. I have this under control." Her words were belied by the helpless look on her face.

"No," Kendrick replied. It figured his name would be Kendrick. Dorian once knew a dragon with the same name. Perhaps all the truly loathsome people on this island were named Kendrick.

"Yes," a new voice said. The female from earlier had returned, eavesdropping as obviously as Kendrick had been. "Selene can handle this alone, my love. We should go."

The brother's mate, then? If _he_ could lure a mate – and a sensible one, at that – then Dorian should be able to entice Selene to his side easily.

"I'm not leaving her here to be abused by this nymph."

After several minutes of arguing between Kendrick and the two women, Dorian had had enough. "I don't care if he's here. I'll say what I came to say." He leaned down and planted his hands on the table, which brought him to Selene's eye level. "I cannot live without you, and what's more, I do not want to. I want your face to be the last thing I see before I fall asleep and the first thing I see when I awaken –"

"For tonight only," Kendrick mumbled.

"– I want to do your biding," Dorian continued, ignoring Kendrick, "yours to command in everything. Once a nymph finds his mate, he is hers and she is his, and that is it. I want to be yours. Let me."

Selene looked into his eyes and away. "You only want my body –"

"I want _all_ of you. For the rest of my life." He said it because it was true, and because she needed to hear it. Her voice had sounded resigned, sad. "I can tell that you want me to prove your assumptions wrong, and I intend to if you'll but give me the opportunity."

"This is absurd –" Kendrick said before his mate hushed him.

Tears welled in Selene's eyes, and when she spoke, he could hear that they'd leaked into her voice. "I just had my heart broken by a man who was expert with sweet words like this."

"And I will lay his lifeless body at your feet if you so require." Her eyes widened, and he knew he had to continue before she found another excuse to disbelieve his words. "I know you are unfamiliar with nymphs, but let me teach you. Let me show you what we can be to one another –"

"I know well the ways of nymphs," she interrupted, her voice harder than he thought she was capable of. The tears spilled over onto her cheeks, and he wanted to kiss them away. But they had changed to tears of anger. "Warriors. Murderers. I will not lose sleep over one less living nymph to use and kill undeserving people," she said stoutly, knocking the breath from Dorian's lungs. All the battles, all the injuries…. Yet nothing had ever felt so brutal as this woman desiring his demise.

With that, she turned and exited the back door, calling after herself, "Alert me when he's gone."

"Finally," Kendrick said behind him. "She comes to her senses." The man walked past Dorian, and grabbed his mate's hand on his way out the door. The woman frowned, and shot him a sympathetic glance as she was pulled along.

"This isn't over," Dorian called before the three vanished.

A man stepped into the shop from the door they'd just exited, probably sent by them to tend to customers. He took one look at Dorian and paled, his breathing shallow. _Well, at least _some_body still reacts to nymphs as they should_, he thought cynically.

He lacked the dark coloring of Selene and her brother, and Dorian's first thought was that the man had better not mean to replace Dorian in Selene's bed. Then he noticed the resemblance to Kendrick's mate, and relaxed. This man was also Selene's family.

"Yes, sir?" the man asked nervously, his gaze darting about the store as if looking for an escape.

"Tell Selene that I'll be back for her. My debt is not yet repaid."


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

_The debt was not yet repaid_, Selene thought. What could that mean? Kendrick had told her of Dorian claiming that he owed her his life, but to hear that he actually meant to give his life to her…

It was absurd. He didn't want to give her anything but a night or two of mind-numbing pleasure then a view of him disappearing into the distance.

And what a night it would be. He'd looked at her like he wanted to take her right there. What was worse was that Selene remembered what he'd done to her body two nights ago. She couldn't stop thinking about it, and the images and sensations clogged her dreams. She could still _feel_ him inside her for the gods' sakes. But it wasn't enough. Her foolish body wanted more, no matter the threat to her heart or peace of mind.

Already, she couldn't get last night out of her mind. He'd seemed to relax when she'd told him that she wouldn't let him be hurt. So much so that she'd thought for a second that he'd breathed his last breath. But then she'd seen the sheet rising over his huge erection.

She'd shied away then. The idea of touching him when he was so helpless had repelled her. She'd been trying to calm her raging heartbeat when he'd sighed her name.

Feeling guilty, embarrassed, and overwhelmed by her own desire, she'd pulled back the sheet and gripped his arousal. He'd shown her how to do this the night they'd met, but he hadn't let her bring him to climax. Now, it seemed the best option she had to help him, while also safeguarding her own sense of self-preservation. He'd hissed in a breath and exhaled on a groan. His hands had fisted and he'd thrust into her hand. His beautiful eyes had opened and he'd caught her gaze. Then his hands had lifted. With one, he'd gripped her hand and urged her to a faster rhythm, and the other he'd wrapped around the back of her neck and drawn her down until her lips touched his.

She'd gasped when he'd pulled his lips from hers, and his manhood jerked beneath both of their hands as he groaned her name again and began coming in long spurts, and his flesh began to soften.

Most importantly, though, color began to creep back into his skin, and the lines of pain disappeared from his face. He wasn't as vibrant as he usually was, but neither did he look ready to hand his coins to the ferryman of the river Styx.

Even after his climax had passed, he held a tight grip on her hand and kept her mouth engaged with his. Gently, she pulled her hands from his body and tried to move away, but he just ran his hand lightly down her neck, over her shoulder and down her arm until he had her hand held in his grasp. He brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"Selene," he murmured against her hand. "My darling Selene. I must have you."

She pulled back with a sharp intake of breath, and glanced over to see that he was still aroused – or rather, he was aroused _again_.

"Dorian," her voice came out a croak. "I'm sorry. I must go."

Hurt touched his features – not the pain of earlier, but an extreme kind of disappointment and desperation. "Don't go. I need you."

She'd stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say and hating herself for not wanting to say anything at all. Part of her did want him fiercely, but the other part wasn't sure he was worth the pain he would bring.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he urged her closer and sat up with some difficulty. "Dorian," she warned, placing her hands on his shoulders to push him back down. "You shouldn't –"

"Of course I should." He turned to her, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, and his hands began unknotting the ties of her dress. "Scarlet is a lovely color on you." He smiled. "But I imagine all colors are lovely on you."

"Pink," she whispered as the dress floated to the floor. "I look horrible in pink."

His eyes skimmed her body. "You look beautiful in nothing."

She flinched as he tried to pull her near. "As do all your other women, I'm sure."

"There are no others." His voice was worshipful, mesmerized. "There is only you."

That had sounded so practiced, so perfect that it almost brought tears to her eyes. There was nothing she would have rather heard – ever. There was also no way it was true.

Yet, he was already touching her, already pulling her on top of him. Already slipping inside her and sucking softly on her neck.

And she'd let him. She let him do whatever he'd wanted, and once he'd climaxed and was pulling her close, she was counting the moments until he would fall asleep.

She'd left as soon as she'd gotten the opportunity. He'd asked her to come back, but that was impossible. She couldn't face him again. She'd left the palace and asked one of the centaurs for a ride home, and he'd agreed, asking only for a song in payment. She'd sung a low, sad song that she'd made up as they'd rode along the outskirts of the forest. He'd left her at her house and just as she began to unlock the door, it had swung open.

The rest of the night had been spent listening to her brother lecture her about the dangers of walking home alone in the middle of the night – she'd told him that she'd walked home, and he'd assumed that she'd taken the shortcut from the Outer City through the forest. There had been no point in correcting him, or she would have to explain who she'd come home with and where she'd been.

It was the most exciting that her life had ever been, for better or for worse. But now, she craved some normalcy. She ventured into the Inner City to meet with some friends for their usual round of songs and trade-off of ideas for melodies.

She was welcomed with smiles and warm embraces, and had finally begun to feel like herself again when people began to look up one by one, and frown – the men – or gasp in pleasure – the women – at what they saw.

She turned, and saw exactly what she'd feared: Dorian, standing a little away with crossed arms and stony expression.

"Who is _he_ here for?" asked Louisa, a busty girl with long, dark gorgeous hair, milky skin, and a dazzling smile. Selene found herself wondering if Dorian found Louisa attractive, before she decided she didn't care. If Selene couldn't enjoy him, then somebody else should. But why did she feel so jealous?

_Because _you_ were in his bed last night. It was _you_ that saved his life, and _you_ that made him climax. Twice_, her envious mind answered. _If he accepts Louisa into his bed, he'll forget you. And he doesn't deserve to forget you after what you did for him._

But didn't she want him to forget her?

She was saved from evaluating her disturbing thoughts when Louisa and few of the other female sirens flounced over to Dorian, all flashing smiles and peeks of bosom.

"Don't you want to try your luck with him, as well?" asked Erwin, one of Selene's oldest friends.

"I came here to sing, not to fawn over a nymph." Yet she couldn't take her eyes off of Dorian and the four women fighting for his attention. These were women she'd known and respected for most of her life, but now she only felt envy – yes, envy. She'd admit it. It was unwanted and confusing, and would probably hurt her in the long run, but it _was_ envy she was feeling.

Dorian didn't smile as the women flirted, and he deflected each of their hands as they tried to touch him. They were undoubtedly trying to get a response from him, and they all seemed shocked when he pointed in Selene's direction and said something she was too far away to hear.

Selene turned before any of them could react further, telling herself not to care. It shouldn't please her that he'd identified himself as her property…if that's what he'd said. She didn't like her feelings for him and didn't want to encourage him to continue chasing her. She wanted her old life back.

"I heard that you and Aiden separated," Erwin said. "Did something happen?"

Speaking of her old life. She shook her head. "I'd prefer not to speak of it, if you don't mind."

"The nymph, then?" Erwin guessed. "Aiden said you chose some nymph over him. He's telling everyone."

Her blood heated to a boil. How could he say such a thing? And he was telling _every_one? Selene had been perfectly content to tell people that they'd separated on amicable terms, but apparently Aiden was fine with being malicious. Well, if he could lie, Selene could tell the truth. "I didn't choose anyone. I found him in bed with some woman, and decided that he and I no longer needed to keep up this pretense."

Erwin's eyebrows jumped before he schooled his features to nonchalance. "Pretense?" She knew he was baiting her, in that way meddling friends did, but she didn't care.

"He never touched me. Never even tried to kiss me." She felt horrible saying these things, but the words were leaving her lips before she could stop them. "I'd assumed all this time that he was just conservative. It turns out that he'll fall into bed with anyone but me."

Erwin's brow furrowed in seeming pity, and he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a feminine voice. "Selene, why didn't you tell us that you'd become a nymph's mate?"

Selene turned and saw combinations of shock, amusement, respect, and envy on the faces of her friends. Almost immediately after that, she saw that the women had dragged Dorian over. He was standing behind them, staring at Selene with lust in his eyes.

"I am not his mate."

"Perhaps," Dorian began, irritation seeping into the desire in his eyes, "we can go someplace private, and I can explain it to you more clearly."

Her eyes narrowed, "You've explained yourself splendidly. I simply refuse." There was dead silence, during which Selene didn't dare look any of her friends in the face. "I want no part of you."

"And I want no part of anyone _but_ you," he countered. "So how will this be solved?"

"Selene," Johanna, one of the fawners, said. "Why not be with him? There is no disadvantage."

She turned to Johanna with a glare. "I will not be with a man who has other women."

"He won't if you're his mate," Della put forth. "He's a nymph. He'll never go to anyone but you." She looked Dorian over with an appreciative smile. "And even if you're not his mate, you can enjoy him until you tire of him."

Dorian, obviously tired of being spoken of like an object, gave Della a dark look, then stepped forward. "Forget, for a moment, the pleasure we can give each other. I will weaken and die without you. I do not want – am not aroused by – anyone but you."

"You'd find someone else if you life depended on it," she replied coldly.

"No," he said. "I would die before going to anyone else. Even if I were given the choice. You say you don't want me. Yet you saved me last night. You hate nymphs, but came to the nymph palace on the word of a stranger to save my life." He stepped forward to loom over her. His scent enveloped her, and she had to struggle to keep her knees from buckling. "You said you wanted to see me dead, but the woman who let herself be surrounded by creatures she hates for my sake would not truly desire that. The woman who told me not to speak so as not to overexert myself does not wish to see me gone from this world. The woman who stood by my bed couldn't want me deceased. If she had, she would not have wasted her time to save me. I'll not believe what you said earlier. Your words pale in comparison to your actions."

Her next words were breathless, because he was absolutely right. "Dorian –"

"I will accept no less than your full capitulation," he went on. "I will chase you if you so desire. I will follow you until you see how weak I become without you and accept me as your man. I will recruit your family and friends to speak on my behalf. I will use every tool I can find to win you. I will not give up."

"Dorian," she said with more force. "I will not –"

"I need you, Selene."

She hardened her voice to steel. "But I do not need _you_, Dorian," she told him, glaring into his eyes. "Nor do I _want_ you."

Then she turned and walked away.

_I'm being chased from the only refuge I have_, she sulked. Why would he follow her there and say all those things? Those beautiful, amazing things that she would have loved had they been sincere. And Dorian had _appeared_ sincere, but his sincerity only regarded his desire for her body.

Her friends were no help, either. _Some_one could have told him to leave. He might not have been so quick to stay if it had been more than just her against him.

She rolled her eyes. That man probably wouldn't back down if it was him against an entire army, let alone a small group of sirens.

Selene crossed the Inner and Outer Cities with no incident, and made it home still deep in thought. She turned to close her door and saw Dorian leaning against the same tree he'd been against that morning. He must have followed her through town.

She closed and locked the door, going about her regular business. She cooked supper, cleaned her house, and went to bed, but couldn't sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, she rolled from bed, and walked quietly to the door. Knowing it was dangerous to open the door in the middle of the night, she cracked it and peaked out.

He was still there. He hadn't moved or so much as sat down. "Have you changed your mind?" he asked quietly.

"Go away," she called out, much louder than necessary.

"No," he said. "I told you that I'd accept nothing less than total capitulation."

She sucked in a soft breath and slammed the door. She jerked the lock into place, hoping to feel satisfaction that he was still outside and she hadn't crumbled. She felt like crumbling, though. She wanted to ask him to come inside and make love to her until she could convince herself that everything he said was true; that he was her mate, that he wanted and needed only her, and always would.

She sighed and walked back to bed, knowing what kind of dreams awaited her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

A scream shook the night. A scream from inside Selene's cottage. Dorian didn't wait to ask questions, he just knew that his mate was in trouble and he needed to aid her.

He put a foot to her door, and the wood splintered, bursting open. He shouldered past the remains of the door, and ran into her bedroom.

She was thrashing about on her bed, tangled in the sheets. Screaming for all she was worth. Clearly in the throes of a nightmare.

"Selene," he called. He sat on the edge of her bed, trying to grab hold of her flying limbs and not get hit. She was flailing violently enough to hurt herself if she connected with something. "Selene, darling. Wake up. Wake up! Wake up, love."

At that last entreaty, her eyes popped open, and she let out another shriek and scrambled away. She let out a harsh breath and slapped a hand over her heart, as she seemed to recognize him. "What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

"You screamed. I thought someone was in here attacking you, so I kicked the door in." He ran a hand over his face. "I'm glad to see it was just a dream and nothing more serious."

"Yes," she replied hollowly, "just a dream."

Yet she was covered in sweat. He looked her over. She was still tangled in the sheets, and the look on the face was dazed.

He sighed, knowing a fight was coming. "Move over, Selene –"

"You can't stay here," she nearly shrieked again. "I'm not going to let you seduce me again."

Because it had been so bad before? "We're not going to make love. I'm simply staying here in case you have another nightmare." She looked at him skeptically, and he continued, "I would just come back in the next time. Unless…" He glanced over at her. "Do you usually have bad dreams one at a time?"

He could tell from the way she bit her lip – her full, succulent lip – that she anticipated more nightmares. She went to run her fingers through her hair, but groaned when she seemed to realize that she'd cut it off.

"I can stay on one side if you want." He shrugged. "Or I can hold you if that's what you desire. Whatever you wish, darling."

"I want nothing from you," she replied immediately, stonily.

He sighed. So stubborn she was. "Then, as a personal favor to me, let me stay. For my peace of mind." She looked up at him, and then away, face fracturing in worry and fear. "We could talk about it. Maybe I can help." She shifted her gaze across the room. "Selene?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That seems to be your answer regarding anything that involves me." He knew his voice was a bit scolding, and more morose than he would have preferred.

"That should tell you something."

He tried his best to ignore her petulance, but his patience wasn't limitless. "It couldn't hurt to tell me. Just to unburden yourself."

She turned from him. "I…I…" She broke off with a shake of her head. "How did you know I hated nymphs?"

He felt his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. Nymphs. Him. "Your brother told me. Last night." He looked over at her, but she averted her eyes. "I'm sorry for the loss of your parents."

She didn't reply, except to fold her hands in her lap.

"May I ask _you_ something?" When she still didn't reply, he began. "I'm wondering why you would come help me when you hate nymphs."

"That wasn't much of a question," she said.

He shrugged, feeling foolish for his insecurity. He'd never been unsure of himself until he'd met this little female. "Why would you help me? Why, if not for love?"

"I didn't have much choice. I couldn't let you die." She paused. "Nymphs shouldn't kill sirens, and sirens shouldn't kill nymphs."

"You wouldn't have been the one to kill me. It wouldn't have been your responsibility to keep me alive."

"Murder by inaction is still murder." She wielded the phrase like a shield.

He took a moment to consider what she'd said, watching her closely. "So, you wanted to save me?"

"I didn't want to see you die." She toyed with her fingers in that nervous way she did. "You were right."

Dorian started to ask her what that meant, but he thought better of it. She'd admitted that he'd been correct. And if he was correct about this, he could have been correct about other things as well. He would get her to see that they belonged together.

He glanced at her, and she was staring down at the bed, and tracing designs on the sheet. "Can I stay, Selene?"

She opened her mouth, then blew out a sigh. She nodded.

Relief coursed through him, but he tried not to show it. "May I hold you?"

Tremblingly, she shook her head. Then she slid wordlessly to the edge of the bed, stood, and began to pace the floor.

For hours, she did this. Never once did she utter a word or look over at him. Just continued to pace the floor of her bedroom, with eyes growing wilder every moment. By the time he called her name, she was practically panting with the intensity of her own thoughts. She looked fevered and entranced. Fatigue never touched her features, but she looked more and more terrified with each passing minute.

She jumped at his voice, pausing in her step but never looking at him.

"Tell me your thoughts," he said softly. "What has you so frightened?"

"I'm not frightened," she said woodenly.

A likely story. But he didn't dispute her words. "Upset, then," he amended. "What has you so _upset_?"

She glanced at him, and then hurriedly away. There'd been a flash of vulnerability in her eyes, directed at him.

So _he_ was the reason for her distress. That saddened and frustrated him. "I want only to be your man."

She didn't pause in her stride. "So you've said."

"I'll prove it, if you wish," he said for what must have been the hundredth time. "Tell me what it is that you desire."

"Peace, Dorian." Her voice was dove-soft. "I want peace."

Of course she did. Lack of peace had killed her parents, made her separate from her intended lover, and had her in this room with Dorian. She would want stability and ordinariness, things a constantly-warring nymph could never provide her. Maybe she realized that, or maybe she didn't and was understandably confused.

"I've been thinking of leaving Valerian's army and finding a place outside of the palace. A cottage, perhaps, in a peaceful part of the island." He hadn't considered such a thing until this moment, but what other option did he have when his mate feared nymphs? He could not expect her to come live in the palace to be surrounded by them day after day. "What do you think?"

"A place like this one?" she asked dryly.

He shrugged; as though his actions over the next few days did not hinge on her response.

"From what I hear of nymphs," she started, "one of your warriors cannot live without battle. Almost as much as you cannot live without sex, you must war with _some_one."

He chuckled. "Of all things you could learn, that is what you hear about nymphs?"

She was the one to shrug this time. "I asked some friends."

He relaxed a bit. Finally, she was talking with him, not just _at_ him. Perhaps, she could be encouraged to go further. He would have to proceed with caution, but it was possible.

"Selene," he began, his voice soft. "If you could list the qualities you desired in your ideal lover, what would they be?"

Finally, she stopped pacing, and looked him in the eye. There was fire banked in her expression, and, though he didn't like it, it was preferable to the coldness he'd seen there before.

"I'd want a man who did not treat me like an idiot," she snapped, eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask me these things?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He was trying to be open and honest, in hopes that she would reciprocate. She pushed out a heavy breath, and he watched her hopefully.

"I'd want to feel protected. I'd want to feel respected and loved. Like it was a partnership, in which I do my part and he does his. I don't want to be a joke." She faced him angrily. "And I do not want to feel like I was forced or guilted into anything."

Dorian felt his eyes narrow. "When have I ever disrespected you? When have I ever forced you?" His voice was low, dangerous. It was a voice wise men cowered before. But this tiny female did not bat an eye. Nor did she back down. When she spoke again, her voice was as lethal as he'd ever heard it.

"You follow me around, telling me that you'll accept nothing less than my total surrender," she growled. "You call me to your palace to save your life…" She shook her head. "Did you think I would leave you to die when I know I'm the only one who can save you? What choice was I given, Dorian? What kind of person would I be if I'd let you die?"

He stood from the bed in one fluid motion. All that time, he'd tried to remain on the bed, to appear as harmless as possible. But such actions had become impossible. "What kind of person are you that you would use that as an excuse to say you were forced?"

"What would you call it?" she spat. "What is it when you tell me that you need my body to survive, whether I want to give it to you or not? You pronounced yourself my mate," she continued, "but did you even consider that I might not want such a position?" When his brow furrowed, she went on, "I told you that I did not want any part of you. Can't you just let me be?"

No, he couldn't. "I will say this once more only." He stepped closer to her. "I will die without your touch. I say this not to be persuasive, nor to tell you what I think you want to hear, but because it is fact. I will weaken, wither, and die without you. My mere existence depends on you."

She looked away. "Well, I'm sorry. I cannot have you as my mate." Pacing away from him, she continued. "I will not be used by another man. Made to look like a fool, and treated as a piece of trash or a means to an end."

"I would never –"

"When did you ask me, Dorian?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "You just assumed that I wanted you, but the opposite is true. If you think that I'm truly your mate, then we'll perform the unbinding ceremony at the temple and be done with one another. I want nothing more to do with you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: Dorian, Valerian, Shaye, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. **_**Siempre hace frio**_** – a gorgeous song sung by the late Selena Quintanilla – is real and also not mine. Sexual situations. You've been warned. R/R, please!**

"Unacceptable," Dorian said for the hundredth time. He'd been mumbling the word it to himself over and over again for the better part of the day.

He'd gone over her words a thousand times, looking for some other option. Something besides an unbinding. It was all he could do.

Valerian, after seeing Dorian's injury and newfound distraction, had forbidden him from practicing. Most in his position would shrug it off, and go find a woman to spend the free time with. But Dorian couldn't do that, either. Selene didn't want him, had gone so far as to suggest an unbinding ceremony.

"Unacceptable." He needed some other recourse. But perhaps not. Why should he try so hard to gain the affection of a woman who did not want him? He'd be better off without her. Even if she was only denying him to avoid being heartbroken again.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, and stood. He needed advice, and he knew where he could get it.

It was several hours later that he found who he was looking for. The midday meal had just ended, and Dorian waited for the king and queen to leave the dining room.

Halfway down the hall, he caught up with the pair. "Sir, madam," he called. They both turned, curious looks on their faces.

"Dorian," Valerian said. "I hope this isn't about your suspension, because I don't think you're ready to come back."

"No, sir," he assured. "I was hoping to ask some advice from the both of you. If you can spare the time."

The queen's eyebrows rose in surprise, but she nodded a moment later. "Alright. What's the problem?"

In a rush, Dorian told them about Selene's easy capitulation that first day, then her sudden change, the revelations he'd made about her, and her accusations that she hadn't been given a choice. "She hates nymphs," he finished. "She hates _me_. But she is my mate, and I don't want an unbinding ceremony."

Shaye nodded. "I see your dilemma. It sounds like she was only interested in a night, not a lifetime."

"And many times," Valerian said, "women give themselves to us unthinkingly. She might have done so that first time, and without the influence of your appeal, she now regrets her actions."

"Not to mention that you called her when you were injured," the queen continued. "She was told that you wouldn't live without her, and so she might have felt that she really _had_ no choice. If she hadn't come, she would have killed someone who didn't need to die." Her brown eyes softened. "Maybe you should do the unbinding ceremony, Dorian. What is the good in having a woman who does not want you? You're a good man. You can do better. But be sure it's what you both want."

"Thank you, my queen, my king." They nodded, and he turned and began walking toward the exit.

He had a siren to deal with.

xXx

Selene felt all air leave her body when Dorian entered the room. Her heart rate sped, and she froze where she stood.

She hadn't seen him since yesterday morning, when she'd thanked him woodenly for staying with her, and closed the door in his face. She hadn't been able to catch her breath after that. Her emotions were riotous, and her thoughts wouldn't settle. Everything in her was hurting.

What had that night meant? She'd been adamant about her desires. She wanted them to perform an unbinding ceremony. He hadn't agreed. But he hadn't argued, either.

He'd just sat there, watching her for the rest of the night. Neither of them had spoken, neither had rested.

And now he was here.

She didn't greet him, just watched him as he came forward determinedly.

"The night you left the palace," he said without preamble. "I rode through the woods, looking for any sign that you had been assaulted on your way home." His voice was low, unhurried, and deliberate. "I knew that if I found the smallest clue that you had been ravished or harmed in any other way, I'd find whatever creature that hurt you, and kill it slowly and without mercy." He shook his head. "I thanked the gods a dozen times over when I found out you'd made it home safely."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head again, cutting her off.

His gaze fell, and his jaw clenched tight. "I never considered that _I_ might have been the one to hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry. I realize that you were right. I never asked you if you wanted me. I assumed that first night had been your consent, and that you wouldn't need to consent again. I assumed you wanted me forever." He looked her in the face. "I should have asked."

Selene wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind.

"I understand your position, Selene. So much so that I will go turn myself in. The slavers are in the outer city right now, and I'll submit myself to their chains for the crime of rape if you tell me to. Say the word, and we'll unbind ourselves. And I'll go, never to bother you again."

She stared at him for a moment, unmoving. Her thoughts wouldn't stop, and she was helpless but to tell the truth. "I didn't climax that night in the palace." She swallowed hard, and shook her head. "I was too…I don't know. I was afraid for you, and I was scared to be in the palace with all those nymph warriors. I couldn't get aroused, and I was humiliated by my actions."

"Broderick said you left in tears," Dorian whispered, his voice broken and unsteady.

She nodded, eyes averted in shame. "I was so confused. I hated what you were, but I wanted you more than I've ever wanted anything. I'd meant only to use my hand on you, to restore you even partially. Just enough that you wouldn't die," she continued. "But you opened your eyes, and I was so relieved. Yet when you began unknotting my dress, I panicked. I saw only lust in your eyes –"

Her eyes went over his shoulder, and she paused. Dorian looked behind him at the customer – some non-descript minotaur male – and turned back to her with a frown. "Can we continue this someplace else?"

Selene nodded and gestured to the door behind her. A moment later, Anise had taken her place in the store, and she was outside with Dorian.

"I can't have only lust, Dorian," she said. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. I need respect and love. I can't be used again. So when you undressed me, I felt sick. I knew you didn't want me. You only wanted my body, and I only wanted yours." A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it furiously away. "I felt ashamed and dirty and disgraced. So I ran, even when you told me to return, even when your friend asked me if I needed an escort home. I couldn't face what I'd done or what you represented. I'm confused," she finished. "And I don't know how to fix it, except to tell you how I feel."

She heard him sigh, but she couldn't look him in the face. "I wish I'd known," he said softly, "but I'm glad you told me. Now we can resolve this. There is no shame in wanting love, Selene, nor respect," he started. "And I do respect you. Few would enter the stronghold of their enemy to save a virtual stranger; fewer would expect somebody else to. But you did. As for love…I do not love you. But anyone who would put my health before her own fears is someone I could fall in love with. And I desperately want to fall in love with you."

Selene couldn't help it. Her gaze shot to his, and she saw sincerity shining there. This nymph was turning out to be nothing like she'd imagined.

"I have a proposition for you," he said, stepping closer. "If you will save me from the slavers, we can spend some time together. Not making love, but…" he paused, as if to think on his words, "making _friendship_, if you will."

Selene couldn't hold back her smile at that. But she didn't say a thing.

"I want you in my life," he told her. "And I'm just vain enough to admit that I want you to fall madly in love with me. Spend a day with me, Selene." He reached up and cupped her cheek, caressing his thumb back and forth. "I will woo you. No seduction. We can just talk, get to know each other. As friends. If you still want the unbinding at the end of the day, then we'll go to the temple. If not, then we can spend another day together. And another, and another. Until you decide where this friendship will lead."

Eyes wide, Selene looked up at him in awe. "You really want to be my friend?"

"I want to be your everything," he admitted with a sigh. "But friendship is the perfect place to begin, yes?"

She nodded.

xXx

Dorian glanced at Selene as another person – a woman this time – passed them on the street, offering his companion a silent nod. In the span of a second, she smiled at Selene, then her gaze fell on Dorian. Her eyebrows jumped halfway to her hairline, and a look of a respect registered on her face before she passed without a word.

He'd become a status symbol, he thought wryly. That had happened twice already.

"You have many fans?" he asked.

Selene glanced at him once in surprise, but looked away in the next moment. "Not really. Only the older sirens have any real following."

"So you say," he replied. "But was the sixth person so acknowledge you since we've been walking." He lowered his voice as an excuse to lean closer to her. "And people are watching you."

He'd arrived at her home an hour ago to walk her into the Inner City, and he'd noticed every pair of eyes that landed on her – and exactly what emotions resided there. He might have felt bad about his vigilance, but this was his mate, and it was his right to be protective.

She smiled slightly, letting out a low chuckle that danced across his skin. "They're probably watching _you_. Wondering why you are here, walking with a woman instead of trying to seduce her off to some secluded spot."

"Say the word," he said simply, casually. He may be burning, but there was no reason to push her. He'd win her eventually. He only hoped the wait wouldn't kill him. He frowned at the thought, and continued in what he hoped was a pleasant tone, "They are watching _you_, love. I know when I am being studied, just as I know when someone is studying you. I am acutely aware of such things. "

She shook her head. "If you say so. But I have no following. I am not experienced enough."

"You are either modest or blind." But he let the subject drop. Their debate might be friendly now, but it may not remain that way.

"Do you remember your parents?" he asked after a moment.

Her expression fell as her step faltered, and her brow furrowed in seeming distress as the blood drained from her face. Her mouth floundered open and closed.

He stopped beside her. Stomach plummeting, he muttered, "I'm sorry. I should not have asked such a personal question. I...am not used to getting to know someone."

All his friends he'd known since birth – had not needed to learn about them. All his bedmates had wanted to know nothing about him, and had not cared to talk about themselves.

He looked down worriedly at her gray face. "Perhaps –"

"No," she interrupted. "I can talk about it." But she said nothing for so long that he thought she'd changed her mind. "My brother looks just like my mother. His features are more angular, more masculine, of course. But essentially the same. Her eyes, her nose, her mouth."

"Really?" He could think of nothing else to say.

She shook her head furiously. "No," she said softly, tears leaking into her voice. "Maybe. I can't remember her face. I don't even know what she looked like. Kendrick tells me I look like her, and I know I look like him. So…I suppose."

She swiped a hand over her cheek, and his heart broke. "I'm sorry," he said again. He had to stop offending her. "We should change the subject."

She nodded mutely, turning away and continuing their walk. "What do you do in your free time?" she asked before she must have realized the answer herself. She chuckled almost hysterically. "Never mind. Your favorite food, then?"

"Steak," he told her. "Though I have found something more pleasing of late."

Her startled gaze focused on him, and he couldn't resist pulling her to a stop again, tilting her chin up, and caressing the pad of his thumb across her cheek. "Are you alright? The last thing I wanted to do was distress you."

She only smiled haltingly up at him. He reluctantly released her face – without kissing her as he would have liked to – but could not resist catching her hand when they kicked back into motion. His smile couldn't be suppressed when she squeezed his hand.

"What is _your_ favorite food?" he asked.

"Salmon."

"Grilled or baked?"

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Baked. I must admit, I did not expect you to know anything about food preparation."

"I'm not only a lover and warrior," he said blithely, and she coughed – maybe to cover her smile.

When she pulled her hand away from her mouth, her eyes were sparkling with amusement instead of tears. "My mistake for making the assumption." The laughter in her voice was genuine, though it hadn't completely erased the sadness from earlier. Dorian made it his mission to banish that pain. Hopefully forever.

It was the least he could do for his mate.

"What is your favorite song?" he asked.

She looked surprised for a moment – perhaps that he would think to ask such a question – then her face became pensive. "There is a song called _Siempre hace frio_ by a siren I admired as a child. She's dead now, but she wrote many beautiful songs."

_Siempre hace frio?_ The words meant nothing to him. "That's not Atlantean, is it? What does it mean?"

"It means, 'Always cold.' It's a language from the surface, not the one many humans here speak, though," she told him. "But there is a small group of us in Atlantis that knows it still. It's the language my grandfather spoke before the gods banished him here."

"Your grandfather was human? From the surface?" He was astonished. He knew many humans personally – his queen being among the number – but so few of them were directly from the surface, or could even recall when their relative came to Atlantis in the first place. It did not serve to know how human one was in a land that considered humanity a weakness.

She nodded silently. "My grandmother, though, was a siren. They had my father, and my mother's entire family was sirens."

"No wonder your voice is so intoxicating," he said, smiling. "You're almost a pure-blooded siren."

She grinned at the compliment. "What about your family?"

"We will discuss it at a later time," he said. "We are here." They had arrived at her shop. He'd been dreading this moment – leaving her company for hours – as much as he'd been waiting for it – perhaps he could steal a goodbye kiss.

Selene turned toward him, looking reluctant to leave him. _Thank the gods_, he thought. "Thank you for walking me here, Dorian."

"The pleasure was all mine." And he was not joking. He adored the ecstasy of being inside her, but just being near her was addictive in its own right. There was an aura that radiated from her delicate body that soaked all the way to his bones. He would get as much as he could. "May I come and walk you home tonight?"

She glanced into the shop, then at him again. "I would like that." She punctuated the statement with a nod. "Is an hour before dark too late?"

"Not at all." He watched her for a moment, trying to memorize her face to sustain him until he saw her again. But it wasn't enough.

Stepping closer, he took her hand and gently pulled her to him. Lowering his mouth to hers, he parted her lips with his tongue and delved inside. She groaned and pressed herself closer. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she sucked his tongue in deeper, toying with it for one blissful moment.

All of a sudden, she seemed to realize what she was doing. She pulled away – reluctantly? – and stared up at him, breathing hard. She unwound her arms from around his neck and brought her palms down to his chest. But she didn't push him away. Even more wonderful, she didn't step back.

"Do you kiss all your friends goodbye like that?" she asked breathlessly.

He smiled wryly. "Just one very special friend."

Pulling her hands away – he wanted to growl at the loss of the sensation – she stepped back. "That probably wasn't a good idea. It establishes bad habits. We cannot kiss tonight, Dorian."

No. Not outside of her home, where he might carry her inside and lick every inch of her, before sliding inside her and staying there until she'd screamed herself hoarse with her climaxes.

His thoughts must have shown in his eyes, because her eyes widened and she took a step toward the door.

"I'll see you this evening," she rushed out as she backed into the store.

They maintained eye contact until she turned away. He smiled to himself. It boded well for him that she was so susceptible to his advances. Soon, he'd have her admitting to being is mate and begging him to never leave her.

But first he had to see a siren about a song.


	10. Chapter 10

**This is it! The final chapter! Thanks for sticking with me through it all. It's means the world that you'd share this with me.**

**Note: Dorian, Atlantis, and Atlantis' inhabitants do not belong to me. Selene, Aidan, Kendrick, and Anise are mine; everyone else is not even sort of mine. **_**Siempre hace frio**_** – a gorgeous song sung by the late Selena Quintanilla – is real and also not mine. SERIOUSLY SEXUAL SITUATIONS. You should know by now. R/R, please!**

Selene looked up when she heard a low voice outside the shop. She'd been waiting for Dorian, thinking about Dorian, _worrying_ about Dorian, when a soulful melody began just outside. It could have been a siren, but sirens didn't just stand someplace and sing without being in a group or at least with some accompanying musician. Besides, sirens generally chose a spot to sing and worked from that same place every day. She knew that nobody operated from outside the shop.

Yet the person wasn't walking away, and the voice sounded familiar.

_I love this song_, she thought, wanting to hum along, but not willing to mar the experience of hearing this deep, flowing voice.

Suddenly something clicked, something she should have realized before. The song was in Spanish. Selene knew all the Spanish-speaking sirens on the island. Didn't she? Of course. Otherwise, she wouldn't recognize the voice. But something was still unusual. She couldn't place it.

Standing from behind her table, she walked to the front of the store and peeked out the door.

It was _Dorian_!Dorian, standing in the street, singing _Siempre hace frio_ as clearly and perfectly as if he'd spoken Spanish his entire life. It was shocking to see him there, watching her with those piercing, enticing eyes of his. She'd heard the lyrics of the loss of his beloved – he'd changed all the masculine words to feminine ones – and how he'd rather the heavens strike him down or the ground swallow him alive than be without the one he loved.

It brought tears to Selene's eyes. She was so moved by the sound of his sonorous voice that she didn't realize that Anise had walked up behind her until the woman touched her shoulder. Selene jumped, her hand flying to her chest, but her eyes unable to leave the man in front of her.

"Sorry," Anise said with an amused lilt to her voice. "I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you heard me." She glanced at Dorian, whose hot gaze was still fixed on Selene. "You were so mesmerized, you'd think he was a siren." She cocked her head to one side in thought as her attention shifted to Dorian again. "Then again, he has a lovely voice. Is your nymph part siren?"

Selene ignored her friend's jesting tone. "It would seem so, wouldn't it?"

By the end of the song, the entire street was silent. Everyone was watching, so silent that Selene's pulse seemed to be thundering in her ears. A moment later, there were some quiet titters, followed by a few people clapping.

Selene couldn't help it. She was out the door in the next instant, and in his arms. He kissed her hungrily, and she returned it with just as much fervor. She _was_ hungry, starving to be wanted the way he claimed to want her. Any siren would behave exactly the same if they'd been sung to in such a beautiful manner. She wanted him to mean it, and was willing to pretend he did, if only for a night.

He pulled away until only a breath separated them, and Selene's heart dropped. She didn't know nymphs, but she knew sirens. Her reaction was identical to that of a siren that had just heard her mate sing. How many times had she watched one of her friends rush across a room to get their hands on their mate, who'd just finished singing something breath-taking?

Aiden's songs had always made her yearn, but Dorian….Hearing Dorian sing was like discovering a piece of her soul. A piece she'd never known was missing until she'd heard him sing. And some part of her had known from the instant she heard him speak that first day.

She wanted this nymph. This _man_. Damn the future and damn the consequences.

Just like the first time they were together, they made it to her house in record time. They came through the newly-repaired door – Dorian had sent someone out to fix it, free of charge – and slammed it behind them. Never pulling his lips from hers, he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing, and carried her to her bedroom.

As he lowered her gently to the bed, his assessing gaze was on her. "Selene," he murmured, voice strained. "If you want me to leave you, I will. But say so now, because I don't think –"

She was shaking her head almost immediately. "I'm done doubting you, Dorian. I want you. Right now." And every moment after that.

"Thank the gods," he murmured on his way down. He scattered kisses all over her face and neck, groaning every second his lips weren't touching her skin. "Because leaving you –" _kiss_ "– would have driven me –" _kiss_ "– over the edge –" _kiss_ "– to madness."

She was being driven over the edge to madness by his soft lips and sweet words. Most of all by his roving hands. He anchored his hands on her hips for a moment, grinding himself against her through both of their clothes. Both of them let out a gasp at the sensation, and Selene wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. He didn't resist.

Hands working frantically, he untied the knot at her shoulder, baring her breasts in the next moment. He left the skirt intact, though, as he filled his hands with her breasts in the most intoxicating way.

Never pulling more than an inch away from her skin, he trailed a line of kisses down her jaw to her throat, his lips lingering over her hammering pulse. "Do you have any idea how you make me feel?" he groaned against her throat.

"Wild?" she guessed, panting. "Out of control? Taken over by passion without hope or desire to change?" Her breath was coming faster, and her hands went to his back and smoothed over the muscled perfection of his amazing body. Even through his shirt she could feel it. She wanted more.

"Yes," he gasped, either to her question or to the idea of her touching him. Perhaps both. "How did you know?" Lips continued their route over her collarbone, down her chest, to capture one dark nipple in his mouth. His hands ran up and down her hips, caressing her thighs and making her burn to feel his fingers in that needy spot between her legs.

"It's the same way you make me feel," she gasped, as his hand finally dipped between her legs, applying pressure everywhere she needed it. Yet through her clothes, it wasn't enough. She wanted skin on skin.

"The last time we were together," he murmured. "You didn't climax?"

Selene froze for a moment, her hands in his hair. "I…didn't." There was no point in lying about it. She'd told him as much the day before.

He let out a growl that increased her heart rate. "Then I owe you." Angling his head up, he kissed her throat. "I'm going to make you come. At least twice before I enter you."

"But, Dorian –" She gasped as he skimmed his tongue across her nipple. "I want you now."

"Patience, my love," he said. "You'll have me. But first, I want you." His hand finally, blessedly, dipped between her legs and she threw her head back as one of his fingers slid into her.

"Dorian," she sighed. She grabbed his arm as she rode his finger, already impossibly wet. He glided another finger into her and she thrust her hips in sync to his ministrations.

"You're so wonderfully tight," he groaned, his body already readying for her. "I love the way you ride me. The other day, you rode me like a warrioress. A warrioress coming to conquer my soul." He leaned down to her and tugged her earlobe with his teeth. "That day I wanted you beyond imagining." He paused when she groaned and swiveled her hips against his hand. "But today I want you more." His thumb found her tiny cluster of nerves and applied the slightest pressure. Not enough to make her come, but enough to push her to frenzy beneath his touch. "Shall I tell you what I want to do to you, my lovely warrioress?"

She moaned low in her throat and nodded haltingly. "Tell me," she whispered.

"I want to run my fingertips over your beautiful body until you're a trembling bundle of sensation." Almost as a demonstration, he ran his free hand lightly over her throat and down to her breast, leisurely circling her nipple with his thumb and raising goose bumps on her dusky skin. "I want to tongue you until you are so absorbed in my touch that you operate only on instinct, unabashedly seeking your release. I want you so consumed by desire that you never doubt my intentions toward you."

"Oh, Dorian. Just a little more…" She gasped again when he inserted a third finger and brushed his calloused thumb over her most sensitive spot a second time.

"And I want to do this to you every day…," he growled, knowing from experience that it wouldn't be much longer before she came apart, "every night…. Forever. I want you _forever_, Selene."

She let out a cry, and her slick walls convulsed around his fingers as she chanted his name. While she was still riding the waves of pleasure, he placed his thumb back on its new favorite spot and pressed to the rhythm of the convolutions of her tight little sheath. "Dorian," she gasped out. "Yes…gods, yes."

The climax was intense for just being his hand, but was as short as expected. He wanted to hear his name being screamed out. He wanted her so pleasured she could never leave him. He wanted her to confess that she was his mate, only his.

Her body fell back against the mattress, and she sighed, but he wasn't finished with her. Beginning with a feather-light kiss on her brow, he scattered kisses across her temple, her eyelids, her cheek, and her chin, before settling over her mouth for a long, drugging kiss. It was strange to know actions he'd performed countless times were so much more potent when it was _her_. His Selene.

Kissing and nipping a path down her body, he eased her legs apart. They fell open easily. All hint of her apprehension was gone.

He laid an open mouthed kiss on her thigh. Soft kiss after soft kiss led him up the inside of her leg until he reached the new center of his world. She hissed and pulled back, before pressing herself against his mouth.

Dorian pulled back to look at her, and she groaned as if in pain. The last thing he would countenance was pain in this woman, but he couldn't regret looking at her. Her exquisite face was flushed, her breathing shallow as her hands reached out of their own accord for something to grab. His gaze fell to her lovely breasts, so high and firm, then to her quivering stomach with its satiny skin. Lastly, his line of sight fell to the apex of her thighs, and he sighed in contentment.

She writhed beneath him, not opening her eyes, as engulfed in her own desires as he'd wanted her to be. "Please, Dorian. I need you _now_. _Touch me!_"

He hadn't meant to deny her. "Yes, my love." He laid a soft kiss on her lips and she bucked, her body reaching for him delightfully. He grasped her hips, murmuring, "Relax, my warrioress. Let me take care of you." It was a moment before she let her hips fall back to the bed, but she complied. The muscles in her thighs remained tensed, he could see. It meant much to him, though, that she would heed his request.

Again he brushed a kiss to her soft folds. He parted her with his fingers and let his tongue venture inside. Selene's graceful fingers were in his hair the next moment, and he silently rejoiced. He flattened his tongue against her, led it up her lips, let it play against her pleasure-spot. He alternated, leading his tongue from her clitoris to her nether lips, and always keeping his hands engaged. When he plunged his tongue inside her, his fingers pinched and stroked her clit. If he was licking and sucking her clit like the delicious little treat it was, at least one finger was sliding in and out of her.

On and on he went, until his jaw ached. He wouldn't stop, though. To watch her climax because of his tongue, he was willing to stay there all night. That wasn't necessary, though. Using the tip of his tongue, he flicked at her most sensitive spot. Then he lightly scraped his teeth against her. An instant later, she exploded, thrusting her hips up, and holding his head against her. Shouting for all she was worth.

Watching, hearing, tasting, _feeling_ her was so arousing that he nearly spilled right there.

He could wait no longer, the moment she collapsed against the bed, he was pushing inside her. It was so perfect that he shuddered, feeling like he could come that second, he was so primed. But he would hold back as long as he could. This woman had saved his life. On one day's acquaintance, she'd come to the palace of creatures she'd spent her entire life fearing. She hadn't turned away when he'd needed her most. The reminder heightened his arousal to an astonishing degree, but he grit his teeth to hold back his body's reaction as he ground in and out of her. He _would_ pleasure his woman. Starting today, and for the rest of their lives.

As if in response to his thought, her eyes opened slowly and her arms reached for him.

"Hurt?" he ground out.

"No," she answered softly, her perfect face smiling up at him. "Good, so good."

_Good_ was nice, _amazing_ would be better.

With each glide out of her and each pump into her, he felt his heart being more ensnared. She would be the death of him, and he was fully prepared to die by her hand. By her lithe little body.

Lifting her leg, he anchored it on his elbow and was able to go deeper than before. To the heart of her it seemed; fitting, considering what she was doing to his. "Good?" he grunted.

"Perfect," she sighed. "Don't stop."

_Perfect_. That was better than amazing in his estimation. But it could be better. He pivoted his hips to hit her from a different angle. From the fact that her sigh became a pant, he'd guess that she liked it. She clawed at his arms, at the sheets, at her pillow, blindly seeking her pleasure. His name became her battle cry, and she chanted it over and over again as he pounded into her, responding ecstatically to each of his thrusts. Dropping her leg, he slid his arm beneath her lower back and lifted, pumping into her with renewed vigor. She was now sitting forward enough that his every thrust slid over her clitoris before entering the heat of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, but her mouth fell open in a breathy moan that strummed along his nerves.

"Dorian," she muttered, "I'm so close…just need a little more…"

"Yes, my beauty," he replied, voice unable to rise above a murmur. "Come for me. Take your pleasure."

Again she was nodding. "Pleasure. _Yes_." Then the nodding stopped as the screaming began. The shouting of his name in that enchanting siren's voice of hers. She convulsed around him, wringing him tight, tighter than anything he could remember. She scratched at his back, she kissed his lips in earnest, she gave him all she had. All he wanted, and then some.

She had yet to come down, due to his continued thrusts. Her eyelids opened, revealing the dark depths of her irises. One glance into her eyes, and his climax hit him. One pump, two, and he was pounding into her to the hilt and spilling his essence inside her welcoming warmth with a hoarse cry.

Finally, he fell beside her on the mattress and flung an arm around her to pull her close. "You're mine, woman," he said when he finally regained speech, nuzzling her ear.

"Yours." Selene crushed herself against his side and gazed up at him. Adoringly, thank the gods. "Does that mean you're mine, too?"

"Always. I was yours from that first song." He brushed a kiss to her lips. "I'll be yours forever."

**Again, thanks for sticking with me for the long run! Your attention is very much appreciated. Please review with any comments or suggestions. I'd love to know what you think!**


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